


School Days

by Titch360



Series: My Version of Events [62]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-07
Updated: 2019-09-07
Packaged: 2020-10-11 17:48:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 47,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20550209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Titch360/pseuds/Titch360
Summary: Look out Jonathan Kent, there's a new kid in town, and a mission to complete.  How are you going to handle the surprise in store for you?





	1. Monday

School Days

Chapter 1

_Monday…_

“Good morning, class.”

“Good morning, Mr. Kirby.”

Shane Kirby had a hard time not rolling his eyes at the near-defeated tone in his student’s response. _I see. Another day of seventh-grade apathy. Just once, I’d like them to have a little enthusiasm on a Monday._

“Well, I can hear just how excited you are to be here today,” Mr. Kirby said sarcastically, “Maybe this little announcement will put a little energy into all of you. We have a new student joining us today.”

Jonathan Kent sighed as he stared out of the window of his classroom after laying his head on top of his arms on his desk. His teacher’s announcement of a new student starting at Hackman Middle School didn’t interest the twelve-year old.

_Great, _Jon thought, _another person to ignore me or to make fun of my glasses. I hate being in school in March. It’s warm and clear outside, and I’m stuck in school. I want to be out playing, instead of studying._

“You can come in, now,” Mr. Kirby said. Jon didn’t watch as the door opened and closed. “Please, tell the class your name.”

A vaguely familiar, yet unfamiliarly accented voice caused Jon’s eyes to widen under his glasses.

“Ibn Al-Xu’ffasch.”

Jon turned his head slowly to take in the new arrival. He stood a couple inches shorter than Jon. His black hair had been cut short and styled simply. The regulation school uniform was pressed impeccably, yet seemed a size too big for the slim boy. The boy’s skin was tanned a couple shades darker than Jon’s own. The black-rimmed glasses, the same shape and style as Jon’s, perfectly framed the familiar blue eyes.

The almost-familiar voice matched the familiar looks. No matter the strange accent, disguise, or fake name, Jon just couldn’t believe that Damian Wayne was standing in his classroom.

Mr. Kirby looked at the new arrival in confusion, “Uh…”

“That is the name my Mother gave me,” the new arrival said, “I also go by the name my Father gave me. Damian Jones.”

“Okay. Good,” Mr. Kirby said, “I thought they gave me the wrong student file for a second. Let me just initialize your Lexpad. While I do that, does anyone have any questions for Damian?”

A girl in the front of the class raised a hand, and blushed a bit when Damian pointed at her. “Where are you from?”

Damian gave a small smile, “I was born in Egypt. My Father is American and my Mother is Lebanese. We move around a lot, because of Father’s job.”

“What does he do,” the boy sitting behind the girl asked.

“He works for the government,” Damian said, “He never talks about it. He can’t, it’s classified.”

Jon raised a hand, eyeing Damian with a hard look, “You look kind of old for a seventh-grader.”

Damian hid his eyeroll at his friend’s question. He made a show of pretending like he hadn’t seen Jon in the classroom. “Jonathan? I didn’t know you were in this class.” Damian turned to look at the teacher, “We live in the same building. I was sick a lot last year, and I got held back a grade. I’m thirteen, but I’ll be fourteen soon.”

Mr. Kirby stood up and handed a tablet to Damian, “Here you go. Log in with you student ID number and it will give you your class schedule and links to your online textbooks. Be sure to download the latest updates once you get on the school Wi-Fi. Since you seem to know each other, you can take the empty seat next to Jon.”

Damian walked over to the empty desk, smirking at Jon the whole way, causing the younger boy to roll his eyes.

Mr. Kirby said, “Okay, one last announcement before we get started. We will have two student teachers for your classes this week. They are from Metropolis State Teacher’s College, and are here to get experience teaching for their classes.” Mr. Kirby checked a note on his desk, “You will have a Mr. Drake in Computers and a Mr. Todd in P.E.”

Damian froze for just an instant as he sat down. It was only noticeable to Jon, who eyed the teen for a second.

_Father didn’t tell me he was sending Todd, too, _Damian thought_. Either he thinks this is a more dangerous mission than he originally thought, or he thinks I need to be kept on my toes to complete my work here._

“What are you doing here,” Jon hissed to Damian as the older boy sat down.

“Not now,” Damian whispered back.

“You didn’t tell me we had a mission,” Jon whispered.

“You don’t,” Damian replied, “I do.”

“You could have warned me,” Jon said, “I saw you on Saturday, you could have said something.”

Damian rolled his eyes, _I told Father we should have warned Jon. I wonder why Kent didn’t tell his son this was happening?_ “Why am I going to tip you off, when investigating you is the whole reason I’m here? Now, pay attention to class.”

“Mr. Jones,” Mr. Kirby called out, “Is there a problem?”

Damian turned to address the teacher, “No, Mr. Kirby. I was just asking Jon to show me how to find my class schedule on the Lexpad.”

“Okay,” Mr. Kirby said, nodding, “We’re going to get started now, so please keep your questions class-related, and hold your other questions until the passing period. Everyone, please pull up today’s lesson and submit your homework from the weekend.”

_Forty-five Minutes Later…_

Jon and Damian walked out of the classroom, and Jon asked, “Okay, spill it. What are you doing here?”

“Going to school,” Damian said innocently, “Where’s our next class?”

“Do we have the same schedule,” Jon asked.

“Yes, we do,” Damian said, “Father said that wasn’t easy to pull off, but we have all the same classes.”

“It’s Math next,” Jon said, “I’ll tell you where the room is if you tell me why I’m under investigation.”

Damian smiled widely at the youth, “That was a joke. You’re not under investigation. I just said that to get you to be quiet in class. We can’t talk about it here. I’ll tell you this afternoon, after school.”

“This is so weird,” Jon said, shaking his head as the boys took a seat in the next classroom.

A woman rushed into the room, five minutes after the bell rang to start class.

“Good morning, students. Will Damian Jones please stand up?”

Confused, Damian stood.

The teacher nodded, “Right. Everyone, Damian is a new student here today. I’m Mrs. March. Sit down, we have a lot to cover today.”

_At least I didn’t have to answer questions, like I did in Homeroom._

“Students, we’re beginning a new chapter today, and I’m going to push you through this one quickly, so pay attention.”

_Fifteen Minutes Later…_

“Mr. Jones!”

Damian woke up with a snort as the crumpled sheet of paper bounced off of his forehead. Damian looked around, confused, as the other students laughed.

Mrs. March looked at the teen sternly, “If you’re going to sleep in my class, at least have the decency not to snore.”

“Sorry, Mrs. March,” Damian said with a hint of embarrassment coloring his cheeks.

The woman eyed Damian, “Since you are so unconcerned about learning this material, I can only assume you must have mastered this already.”

Damian opened his mouth to inform the teacher that, yes, this material was something he had mastered years ago, but Mrs. March turned her back on the class. She wrote an equation on the board that left most of the students staring, like they were trying to read a foreign language.

Mrs. March held out the white board marker to Damian and said, “Would you be so kind as to solve for X, please?”

Damian shrugged, “Okay.”

Damian approached the board and took the marker. He stared at the equation for several seconds before Mrs. March said, “Show your work, as well.”

Damian started writing immediately, surprising the teacher. Damian spoke to the teacher as he wrote, “I was just going to do it in my head, but it’s easier to write everything out.”

Half a minute later, Damian circled his answer and handed the marker back to the teacher. “There you go,” Damian said, “Can I go back to sleep now?”

The teacher read over the perfectly solved equation three times before asking, “Why are you in _this_ class, if you can do work at this level in your head?”

“This is where I was placed,” Damian said as he returned to his seat.

Mrs. March stared at the student for a long second before saying, “Don’t snore in my class, Mr. Jones.”

Damian didn’t understand the stares he was receiving from the other students. He wasn’t aware that Mrs. March’s standard punishment for sleeping in her class was trying to solve an equation in front of the class that was actually more advanced than the class’s current level. The class Damian was currently enrolled in was Pre-Algebra. Mrs. March had written out a college-level advanced Algebra problem, and Damian had solved it faster than the teacher could.

Damian also didn’t know that he was the first student in six years to be challenged to solve one of Mrs. March’s punishment problems, and actually solve it correctly.

Instead of going back to sleep, Damian pulled out his Lexpad and pulled up tonight’s homework assignment. He was able to complete it before Mrs. March was able to assign it to the rest of the class.

By the time the bell rang to end class, Jon was glaring at Damian. “You know that I hate you, right?”

Damian nodded, “I know.”

Jon made sure they were safely out of the classroom before he said, “Students here dream about showing up Mrs. March like that. No one’s done that in years.”

Damian gave a small smile. He liked that he was able to accomplish something unusual. “What’s next?”

“Computer class, with that new student teacher.”

Damian cringed at the thought, “Yeah. About that…”

“Come on, boys,” a familiar voice said from behind the pair, “You don’t want to be late for class. I don’t tolerate tardiness.”

Jon turned with wide eyes and said softly, “T-Tim?”

Tim smiled and winked at the younger boy, “Mr. Drake, please, Jonathan. Go on, get to class.”

Tim walked on ahead, and Jon turned to Damian, “I’m confused.”

Damian sighed and grumbled, “Just wait until we get to Gym class.”

Jon and Damian walked into the empty computer lab. Damian looked around and asked, “Where is everyone?”

“We have fifteen minutes between second and third period,” Jon said, “A little break, I guess. It should be long enough for you to tell me what’s going on.”

“That’ll take more than fifteen minutes, Jon,” Damian said. “I already told you I would give you a full briefing tonight.”

“Stop that,” Jon snapped.

“Stop what,” Damian asked.

“Stop that,” Jon repeated, “You sound weird.”

“What do you mean,” Damian asked, confused by Jon’s sudden change in attitude.

Jon sat down, “The accent. It’s just us here, you don’t have to speak with an accent around me.”

Damian took a seat next to Jon and spoke softly, “This may be hard for you to understand, Jon, but this isn’t an accent. This is my real voice. Every other time we’ve ever spoken, or you’ve ever heard me talk before today, I’ve been speaking with an accent. An American accent. You know I was born in the Middle East. Even after five years, I still have to work at not speaking in this, my normal voice.”

Jon cocked his head, “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why hide your normal voice,” Jon asked, “If this is you, why hide yourself?

Damian gave a short, pained look before answering, “You fit in better here when you sound like everyone else.”

Jon thought for a second, then asked, “Then, why are you using an accent here? Or, why aren’t you using an accent here? Wow, this is blowing my mind, D.”

Damian took a breath, “I’m trying to hide my real identity a little more. Damian Wayne has never sounded like this.”

Jon smirked, “If you want to hide your identity, maybe you should have chosen a different name? Damian Jones?”

“I could have gone with any name,” Damian said, “We decided to stick with Damian to make it easier on you.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t choose Robert,” Jon said, “Then I would have had to call you Rob. You already answer to that one. Hey, what was up with that other name you gave in class?”

“That’s my name,” Damian said with a shrug.

“What,” Jon asked.

“I have a much longer name than you’ve been told, Jon. Longer than most anyone has been told, really. I only use the parts that attach me to Father, now.”

“What’s the whole thing,” Jon asked curiously.

Damian leaned closer and said softly, “I would normally tell you not to repeat this to anyone, meaning the team, but this time, I won’t. I’m pretty sure you won’t be able to do the whole thing, so I won’t give you the usual warning. It’s Damian Ibn Al-Xu’ffasch Al-Ghul Wayne.”

“Wow,” Jon said, “What does that all mean?”

Damian smiled, “You’ll like this. Damian is just my name. Some people say that Damian is the name of the son of the Devil, but that just came from South Park. The original Greek translation is ‘to tame’. I think Mother was trying to make sure I would always know that her goal in life was to tame me and bend me to her wishes. Ibn Al-Xu’ffasch translates as Son of the Bat. Mother thought she was being funny, I guess. Al-Ghul is Grandfather’s surname. Wayne is Father’s surname.”

Jon smirked, “So, you really were born to be Robin. I guess Jonathan Samuel Kent isn’t all that long, after all.”

Damian smiled as students started trickling into the computer lab. Tim walked in with the normal instructor.

Damian smirked at his brother, then leaned over to Jon and whispered, “If you think Jonathan Samuel Kent is long, try this one on for size. Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne.”

Jon giggled as he looked up at Tim, putting the older man on alert. _What did Damian just tell him? It’s almost scary how well Damian disappears into undercover missions. It’s hard to tell that he isn’t your average middle school boy. He probably isn’t any bigger than any of the students here, even if he is three years older. I really shouldn’t point out his size, when he’s barely three inches shorter than me. He’s a different person around Jon, too. He acts younger, probably to make Jon feel more comfortable. _

The regular teacher, Mr. Park, waved a hand to get the attention of the students. “Okay, settle down, boys and girls. Settle down.”

Tim smiled at his brother’s cringe. _Damian has always hated any implication that he is a child. It would be fun to watch how he reacts to the teachers here, who have no reason to suspect that he is anything other than another young student._

Mr. Park continued, “This week, I get a treat. This is Mr. Drake. He’s here as a student teacher, getting some experience in teaching actual classes. He will be taking over the class this week. I’ll still be here if there are any problems, but you will all be following Mr. Drake. I’ve been told that he is a computer expert, along with a prospective teacher. They’re all yours, Mr. Drake.”

Tim stepped forward a little nervously, “Good morning, class. I’m Mr. Drake. I’m not here to make waves, just to get a little experience in teaching. I’ll be following your existing lesson plan, starting tomorrow, at least. Mr. Park tells me you are learning typing. That is one of the most important skills you can learn, in this day and age. Today, I’m going to have you type something…a little different. I think this will be fun for you.”

Tim passed around sheets of paper to all of the students. They filtered through the room, until Jon raised his hand, “Uh, Mr. Drake? We’re one short here.”

“That’s my fault,” Mr. Park said, “I forgot, we have a new student starting today. Damian, right?”

Damian nodded, “Yes, Mr. Park. That’s me.”

Tim did a double take at his younger brother. _Interesting accent he chose for his undercover identity_. _Wait, i__s that his normal voice? Dick told me about that years ago. It sounds nice. It’s not quite as harsh as his…other normal voice. It’s a little softer. I like it._

Tim got another sheet from the front desk and handed it to Damian. He held on to it for an instant longer than normal, and Damian looked up into the serious look on Tim’s face.

_He miscounted on purpose, to make sure I got _this_ copy,_ Damian thought to himself. _I wonder what information he’s trying to pass on to me._

Tim returned to the front of the room and said, “Here’s what we’re going to do today. I know, the information on your sheets looks a little weird. What that is, is computer code. You all are going to do a little coding today. Are all of your computers on? Go to your start menu and open a command prompt.”

On the wall behind Tim, an image of Tim’s computer desktop was projected. He showed the students how to open a command prompt window. “Everyone got that? Okay, here’s what you do. Pay careful attention to your papers, and type in everything, exactly how it’s written out. Make sure you get every period, every space, every comma. Pay attention to upper case and lower-case letters, too.”

A boy sitting in the back row raised his hand and asked, “Are we hacking?”

Tim winked with a sly smile, “No, but these are the kinds of skills that are necessary to learn, if you wanted to learn how to hack in the future.” Tim then sighed and said, “I do have to tell you, per every computer course I’ve ever taken, that hacking is illegal, and should never be done. What you’re doing today is coding. Go ahead, everyone. Get started. If you have any questions, just ask.”

Damian looked over his paper, while thinking to himself, _If Tim ever wants to change careers, he might actually make a good teacher. I think I’ll tell him that, one day._

There were three different programs on Damian’s sheet, that he could make out, and he was fairly sure that no one else in the room had the same information. Damian started typing, and it was noticed fairly quickly that he typed faster than the rest of the class. Even Jon, who typed fairly quickly himself, glanced occasionally at Damian’s hands as they skipped over the keyboard.

Damian finished his first program and move on to the second one. He only got one line entered before a window opened up in the bottom right corner of his screen. A message popped up in the window, reading, ‘How’s your first day of school, son?’

Damian cocked his head after reading the message, then typed, ‘Did Tim just have me hack into the Wayne Enterprises memo system?’

‘Yes, he did,’ came Bruce’s reply, several seconds later.

Damian typed in several more lines from his paper before Bruce’s next message popped up. ‘How’s school?’

Damian sighed, ‘I was bored the first time I had to do it. It hasn’t gotten any better.’

‘Hang in there. You know your job.’

‘Would I still be on this mission if I hadn’t dropped my classes this semester?’

‘Probably not,’ Bruce replied, ‘but you’re there, and this will make a difference.’

Damian finished his second program before messaging his Father, ‘Don’t tell him I said this, but Tim could be a good teacher.’

Damian could imagine the smile on Bruce’s face as he asked, ‘How about Jason?’

‘I don’t have him until my last period of the day,’ Damian replied, ‘Why did you send him?’

Bruce typed, ‘I wanted extra security at the school, just in case.’

‘I can handle a middle school, Father.’

‘You’re not there to fight. You’re there to fit in. We need the student’s point of view.’

Damian sighed at the message, ‘We could have used Jon for that. He’s pretty confused about why I’m here.’

‘Explain it to him after school,’ Bruce typed.

‘I already told him I will,’ Damian typed, ‘I’ll be surprised if he lets me do anything else after school.’

‘Be sure you pay attention in class.’

Damian rolled his eyes, ‘You’re obviously enjoying this far more than I am, Father.’

‘Yes,’ Bruce typed, ‘but I’ll still miss my boys this week. Talk to you tonight.’

The chat window closed, and Damian’s second program printed one line of text on the screen. _Lexpad registration list transferred._

“How’s it going?”

Damian jumped in his seat as Tim’s voice entered his ear softly. Damian took a deep breath to calm himself, ignored Jon’s barely restrained giggle, and noticed a small countdown on his screen.

The command prompt window closed after wiping the programs Damian had entered so far, and Damian said, “I would estimate two-thirds of the way done, Mr. Drake.”

Tim nodded knowingly, understanding Damian’s statement, and what it meant for his assignment. “Good. And, how about you, young man?”

Jon smiled, “About the same.”

“Keep it up.”

Tim moved off to check in on other students, and Jon asked softly, “Did he really scare you?”

Damian sighed, “It’s only fair. I’m always doing that to him.”

Damian opened a new command prompt window and started typing the third set of instructions. A quick glance at Jon’s screen showed roughly the same information displayed.

_I see. Tim is counting on the fact that I can type faster than any other student in this class, in order to make it look like I’m doing the same work as everyone else. Let’s see if I can get this done._

Tim spoke from the back of the room after checking in with the last student. “I know this is a lot of different typing than you’re used to, but you’re all doing great. Try to finish up in the next fifteen minutes or so.”

_Fifteen minutes. I can do that,_ Damian thought.

_Fifteen Minutes Later…_

“Does anyone need any more time,” Tim asked.

Damian had been the last one done. The rest of the class had finished a couple minutes earlier. No one asked for more time, so Tim sat down at the teacher’s computer and displayed his screen again.

“Okay, you should have something that looks like my screen. On a new line, I want you all to type in ‘run’ and hit enter.”

Tim followed his own instructions, and a stick figure ran onto the screen, waved, and spelled out ‘Hello Hackman Middle School’. Most of the students giggled as the same image appeared on their screens.

Tim stood again and said, “I’ll assume that those of you who aren’t smiling or giggling aren’t seeing this on your screens. That means you made a mistake somewhere along the way. That’s okay. You aren’t being graded on today’s work. This was just an introduction for all of us. Tomorrow, we’ll get back to your regularly scheduled work. You can take those sheets home. Show it to your family and tell them that you’re actually learning a skill at school.”

The bell rang, and Mr. Park said, “Okay, everyone. See you tomorrow.”

The boys left the computer lab, and Jon said, “Hey, you type pretty fast.”

“So do you,” Damian said.

Jon nodded, “I’ve been practicing, thanks to this class. What I was going to say was, you type fast, but you were still the last one done. What were you really doing?”

Damian didn’t look at Jon, “I may type fast, but I make a lot of mistakes.”

Jon’s jaw sagged a bit, “Do you really expect me to believe that?”

“It would help,” Damian said.

“Does it have to do with why Tim’s here,” Jon asked, “and with why you’re here?”

Damian thought for a second, then answered slowly, “…Yes.”

“And you can’t tell me about it until tonight,” Jon sighed.

Damian gave a small smile, “See? You’re catching on.”

“Are you enjoying this, D? Are you enjoying keeping me in the dark?”

The boys walked into their next classroom as Damian said, “Keeping you in the dark, no. Today, being here, I think I’m starting to enjoy this.”

Jon looked at Damian for several long seconds, wondering if Damian had just admitted to enjoying spending time with Jon.

The boys sat through an Earth Science class, which Damian actually found somewhat interesting. Jon spent half of the class paying attention to the lecture, and half the class watching Damian. He wasted his time, though. Jon still had no idea what Damian’s mystery mission was, and nothing mission-related happened in this class.

As the class wore on, Jon started to develop a small smile. By the time the bell rang, ending the class, Damian was curious about the large grin on his friend’s face.

“What’s that look for,” Damian asked softly.

“I was just thinking about what you said before class. Thinking about what it could mean. I think, today, being here, I’m enjoying it, too.”

Damian could tell that Jon had thought long and hard about that particular phrasing. To anyone listening to the boys talk, it would have just sounded like they enjoyed the Earth Science class. To Damian and Jon, though, they both knew that they were enjoying having a friend to spend the day with. 

“Where are we off to now,” Damian asked warmly.

Jon nudged Damian lightly, “My favorite period of the day. Lunch.”

Damian grew a relieved smile of his own, “Oh, good. I’m getting hungry.”

Jon led Damian to the lunch area, where they stood in line to get their food. The line moved a bit faster than Damian thought it would.

The boys grabbed their trays and stepped up to the counter, to see what was being served.

“What…is that,” Damian asked, trying to keep the horrified reaction off of his face.

Jon smiled, “It’s a burrito.”

“It’s in a bag,” Damian said. _Isn’t that the same thing they sell in the gas station convenience store?_

“They’re really not bad, D,” Jon said, then turned to the lunch lady, “Hello. Two burritos, two bags of barbeque chips, and a coke, please.”

“Two,” Damian asked.

“They look big, but they’re not,” Jon said, taking Damian’s tray and setting it on the counter, “The same order for him, too, please.”

Damian shook his head, looking behind the lunch lady, “Not the barbeque chips, though. Funyuns, please.”

“You like those,” Jon asked as the worker changed the order.

“Yes,” Damian said, then looked back at the lunch lady, “Do you have Ginger Ale?”

“No,” the woman said.

“Cherry Coke,” Damian asked hopefully.

“No.”

Damian sighed, “Fine. Sprite, please.”

The boys got their food and headed for the checkout.

“Hi, Jon,” the clerk said, “Swipe your ID card.”

Damian looked concerned, “ID card?”

The clerk looked at Damian, “Did you forget yours today?”

Damian shook his head, “I’m new here. I don’t have an ID card yet.”

Jon looked back at the clerk, “He’s my friend. I’ll pay for his lunch.”

“You don’t have enough in your account to do that, Jon,” the clerk said.

Jon sighed, “Mom forgot to put money in my account again.”

“Do you take cash,” Damian asked, “I have money.”

The clerk nodded, “We can do that. That’ll be four dollars.”

“How much is in my account,” Jon asked.

“Six dollars,” the clerk said, “You’re good for today.”

Damian pulled a twenty out of his wallet, “Can you put the change on Jon’s account?”

“Are you sure,” the clerk asked.

Damian nodded, “Yeah, it’s fine.”

“Sounds like you got a good friend, Jon,” the clerk said as the boys walked outside and found a table.

“I’ll have Mom pay you back tonight, D,” Jon said.

Damian shook his head, “Don’t worry about it. We’ll consider it rent.”

“What do you mean,” Jon asked.

Damian smiled, “I’m staying until my mission is done.”

“Cool,” Jon said as they bit into their burritos.

As much as he hated to admit it, the burrito wasn’t as bad as Damian thought it would be.

“Hey! Hey, Ibby! Ibby. Hey, are you the new Lesbian in town?”

Damian glanced at the two boys approaching the table and rolled his eyes. “You know them,” Damian asked Jon.

“That’s Brad,” Jon said, with a hint of fear in his voice, “He’s an eighth-grader. Matt is in our homeroom.”

“Oh,” Damian said, taking another bite of his burrito.

“Hey, I’m talking to you, Ibby,” Brad said, poking Damian’s shoulder.

Damian looked at his shoulder, said, “It’s Ibn, not Ibby,” then returned to his lunch.

Brad poked Damian again, “Hey, is your mom really a Lesbian?”

Damian sighed, “She’s Lebanese, idiot, and don’t touch me again.”

Brad poked Damian’s shoulder again, turning the teen on the bench, “Look here, Camel Jockey, I’m an eighth-grader, and a black belt in Karate. I’ll do whatever I want.”

Damian waved his hand dismissively, “Well, do it somewhere else. I’m trying to eat.”

His face turning red, Brad said, “I’ll do it somewhere else, and I’ll make sure you don’t see where, because I’m taking your glasses for my trouble.”

Damian didn’t bother to look at Brad. He just reached up, caught Brad’s hand an inch or two from his face, twisted the wrist, and jabbed his thumb into the pressure point on the back of the boy’s hand. The entire lunch area seemed to freeze in shock as Brad froze in pain, as everyone was watching the altercation.

Damian spoke softly, but Brad had no problem hearing the serious tone, “The last person who tried to do that permanently lost the use of three fingers, so, if I were you, I’d think long and hard before continuing your plan. Now, you’ve wasted enough of my time with this shit. If you’re looking for a fight, I’ll put you in the hospital in five seconds. If you’re looking for someone to bully, I think you can tell by now that you’re at the wrong table. If you have any self-preservation instincts at all, you’ll walk away and stay away.”

Damian let go of the bully’s hand, and for a second, Brad looked like he was going to start a fight. The second passed, and a deeper voice sounded from behind the bully.

“Is there a problem here, boys?”

“No, Mr. Brown,” three of the four chorused.

“Yes, Mr. Brown,” Damian said, surprising everyone.

“What’s the problem,” Mr. Brown asked, just as surprised as the other boys that Damian was speaking up.

Damian nodded at Brad, “Your welcoming committee here has decided he doesn’t like my name, my ethnic origin, or the fact that I like to be able to see.”

“Is that so,” Mr. Brown asked.

“No,” Brad said defensively.

“Are racial slurs par for the course around here,” Damian asked pointedly.

Brad shook his head, “Camel Jockey isn’t a racial slur.”

Damian rolled his eyes. _Wow, this guy is dumb. I don’t even have to do anything. He’s going to implicate himself._

“Actually, it is, Brad,” Mr. Brown said.

“Well,” Brad sputtered before seeing the bruise forming on his hand, “Look what he did to my hand.”

Mr. Brown looked at Damian, “I know you’re new here, but I’m sure you’re aware that we don’t permit fighting here.”

“He took a swing at me,” Damian said, “I wasn’t going to let him hit me.”

“I didn’t take a swing at him,” Brad protested, “I only tried to steal his glasses.”

_This is too easy, _Damian thought, _outwitting him isn’t even enjoyable._

This time, even Mr. Brown rolled his eyes at the bully. “Come with me, Brad. We’ve talked to you about this kind of behavior before. Let’s go have a talk with the Vice-Principal.”

“What,” Brad exclaimed, “What about him?”

“We’ll let the security camera footage decide that,” Mr. Brown said.

For the last couple minutes, Jon had been kicking Damian’s foot under the table. Now that Mr. Brown and Brad were headed to the office, and Matt had scurried off, Damian turned to Jon and said, “What? Stop kicking me.”

“Your accent,” Jon hissed, “You’re talking like you again.”

“Shit,” Damian gasped, then sighed, “In my defense, that took Robin levels of restraint not to hit him.”

“She would be proud of you,” Jon said.

“Who,” Damian asked.

“Robin,” Jon said with a smile.

Damian relaxed a bit, “Oh. Right. She probably would.”

Damian opened a bag of chips as another boy walked nervously up to the table. Damian sighed loudly, made sure to speak in his accented, natural voice, and said, “I’m not in the mood.”

“Sorry,” the boy said quickly, “It’s just…no one stands up to Brad like that. That was…thanks, from all of us he picks on.”

Damian looked up at the boy for the first time, “You’re Josh, right? From Homeroom?”

Josh nodded, “Yeah. Damian, right? What did you do to his hand? I’ve never seen anything like that.”

Josh sat down at the table as Damian said, “There’s a pressure point on the back of the hand.”

“Wow. Where did you learn that?”

_Let’s see if I can do something good here_. “From Jon.”

Jon’s eyes widened as he looked at Damian. Josh didn’t see the look, but said, “Cool. I didn’t know you could do things like that, Jon.”

“My Dad taught me,” Jon said.

“Did you guys know each other before you came here, Damian,” Josh asked.

“Our Fathers have been friends for a long time,” Damian said. “My Father and I move around so much that Jon and I didn’t meet until a couple years ago.”

“Why didn’t you go here before,” Josh asked.

“I just moved to town a month or so ago,” Damian said, “I didn’t get cleared to come to a public school until last week.”

“You said this morning that you got sick,” Josh asked.

Damian nodded, “I missed almost a year of school. It wasn’t as fun as it sounds.”

The bell rang, ending lunch, and Damian looked down at his nearly full tray. “So much for lunch,” Damian said.

Jon shrugged, “Bring it with. Mr. Phipps doesn’t care if we eat in class. He knows the lunch line gets long at times.”

“You’re in Phipps’ class too, Damian,” Josh asked.

The trio headed back into the school building again. Damian noticed that they were given a wide berth by other students as they walked. “I guess so. What class is this?”

“History,” Jon said.

“Okay,” Damian said.

The boys were stopped at the door to the classroom by an older man. “Are you Damian Jones?”

Damian couldn’t stop imagining this man as some distant relative of Commissioner Gordon. “Yes, I’m Damian Jones.”

“I’m Mr. Phipps. Boys, go sit down. Mr. Jones, come with me, please.”

Damian followed the man, “Where are we going?”

“The Vice-Principal’s office,” Mr. Phipps said.

Even if he was just a student in disguise, the announcement caught Damian off guard. “I see,” Damian said, “Am I coming back to class?”

“Yes, you are.”

_Maybe this isn’t as bad as I think._ “Jonathan has been kind enough to show me around today. Is it possible to sit next to him when I get back?”

“I don’t keep assigned seats in my class,” Mr. Phipps said, “If Jon wants to sit next to you, I’m sure he’ll save you a seat.”

Mr. Phipps knocked on an open door and said, “Here he is, Mr. Connor.”

“Thank you, Mr. Phipps. Damian, sit down, please.”

Mr. Connor was a relatively young man, in Damian’s opinion, in his mid to late thirties. He got up and closed the door as Damian took a seat. Mr. Connor took his seat behind his desk again and looked at Damian carefully, “You’ve had quite a first day, Mr. Jones.”

Damian shrugged, “I’ve had two-thirds of a first day, Mr. Connor.”

The man smiled, “Yes, I guess that’s right. I don’t usually have students in my office on their first day. Even the troublemakers wait until day two to start causing problems.”

“I’m not trying to make problems, Mr. Connor,” Damian said innocently.

“Relax,” Mr. Connor said with a smile, “you’re not in trouble. We have security cameras covering just about all of the campus. I reviewed the security camera footage of the incident at lunch. You didn’t do anything wrong, that I could see. You’re here for two reasons. One, I want to apologize on behalf of the school, and tell you that Brad’s behavior is not indicative of how Hackman students behave.”

Damian looked down, “Thank you, but really, I’m used to it. People always find something to pick on me about.”

“It’s not easy being the new kid,” Mr. Connor said gently, “I was there myself a couple times. It appears you make friends fast, though. Jon is one of the nicest kids in the school.”

“I’ve known Jon for years,” Damian said, “Our fathers have been friends for a long time.”

Mr. Connor smiled, “Well, it’s always good to know someone. Here, Mr. Kirby forgot to give this to you this morning.”

Mr. Connor handed over Damian’s school ID card, “That’s your school ID card. That’s how you access your student account. Your father pre-loaded it for you.”

“Thank you, Mr. Connor.”

“I can see that you didn’t have a chance to finish your lunch,” Mr. Connor said, “Why don’t you do that now, then head back to class?”

Damian didn’t need to be told twice. His second burrito was devoured and his soda was drained in just over two minutes. Damian looked up at the smiling administrator sheepishly, “I was hungry.”

“I can tell,” Mr. Connor said, “Head on back to class.”

“Thank you, Mr. Connor,” Damian said, “Just one thing, though. Where’s the classroom? Jon has been showing me around, but I don’t know where I’m going.”

Mr. Connor stood with a smile, “I’ll walk you back.”

Mr. Connor led Damian back to the classroom. Mr. Phipps stopped his lecture as Damian walked in.

“Class, this is Damian Jones, our new student. Take a seat, Mr. Jones. Okay, where was I?”

Jon leaned over and said quietly, “Let me guess. You’ll tell me tonight?”

Damian leaned over and whispered, “I got an official apology from the school for what happened at lunch.”

Jon was stunned, both by the explanation, and the fact that he got an explanation at all.

Damian wasn’t exactly interested in the Medieval history being taught, especially since it was the standard school fare. The teachers teaching what is in the book, instead of what actually happened. However, Damian had made enough waves today, and just wanted to get through the rest of his day without incident. Mr. Phipps was a likeable enough teacher, so Damian just listened quietly.

“See you guys tomorrow,” Josh said as he walked off in the other direction as they left the class.

“Are we done yet,” Damian asked.

“One more period,” Jon said, “We have it easy next. P.E. is our last class of the day.”

Damian nodded, “That shouldn’t be too bad.”

The boys entered the locker room and heard a familiar voice calling out, “Jones! Damian Jones!”

Damian rolled his eyes and walked over to Jason. Speaking softly, Damian asked, “What are you even doing here, Todd?”

Jason handed over a set of clothes, “Here. Your gym clothes.”

Damian eyed the garments, “Did _you_ pick them out, or are they going to actually fit?”

Jason smirked, “They’ll fit. Better get changed, you don’t want to be late to my class.”

Damian took a step closer and whispered, “Remember the old saying, Todd. Those who can, do. Those who can’t, teach. Those who can’t teach, teach gym.”

“Don’t piss off the person who owns you for the next fifty-five minutes, Squirt.”

“Is he going to go easy on us,” Jon asked as Damian took a locker next to his and started changing.

“Don’t count on it,” Damian grumbled as he pulled on the gym shorts. Damian was surprised that they fit comfortably.

He started unbuttoning his shirt, and Jon’s eyes widened. “Damian,” the younger boy hissed.

“What,” Damian asked.

“What about your scars?”

Damian pulled his shirt off, revealing a tank top that did a good job of covering most of his scars, “What about them?”

Damian pulled his shirt on as Jon changed his own shirt.

“I didn’t think you wanted everybody seeing them,” Jon said as they walked out of the locker room.

“I don’t, that’s why I wore an undershirt.”

The boys stood with the other students, waiting for the instructors to come out and start class. They waited nearly five minutes after the bell rang before two men approached the students.

“Good afternoon, everyone,” Mr. Donell, the normal P.E. teacher said, “This is a special week for us. First, we have Mr. Todd as your guest instructor this week. I’ll still be here to observe, but he will be in charge. Second, this is everyone’s favorite week, physical fitness week. Thursday, we will have your state-mandated physical fitness tests. You’ll be tested on push-ups, sit-ups, standing high jump, flexibility, pull-ups, and the rope climb. Then, on Friday, it’s everyone’s favorite. That’s right, the timed mile run.”

The class groaned at the schedule the teacher laid out. Mr. Donell hid a smile, “Don’t start complaining yet. You can complain on Friday, after you run. Until then, to make sure everyone is ready, Mr. Todd is going to put you to work. Mr. Todd, I want to see sweat, and lots of it. Don’t go easy on them.”

Jason gave an evil smirk to his disguised little brother. Jon caught the look, and swallowed nervously.

“We’re in trouble, aren’t we,” Jon asked Damian.

“Oh yeah,” Damian said quietly.

Jason blew a whistle and said, “Okay, line up. We’ll start with some stretches.”

Mr. Donell called out, “Amelia, George, lead the class in stretching. It’s your turn this week.”

Two kids stepped forward and led the class in a short stretching session. Once they were done, Jason called out, “Good. Today’s class is going to be a mini version of your tests at the end of the week. We’ll start with a short warm-up run. Two laps around the field. Go!”

For the first lap, the class stayed pretty well bunched together. On the second lap, the class began to string itself out.

Keeping pace with each other, Damian said, “Come on, Jon. We’re not going to let Todd beat us. Let’s pick it up a little. Use a little SB.”

“Will you be able to keep up,” Jon asked.

Damian laughed, “Don’t worry about me, Jon.”

Jon smiled, “Let’s go.”

Jon and Damian were the first ones done with their laps, almost half a minute before the rest of the class. Neither boy even looked like they had exercised at all, and neither of them liked the smirk they found on Jason’s face.

The class regrouped, and Jason said, “Okay, now we’re going to play a little game. It’s called ‘The Hundreds’. On Thursday, you all are going to be tested on several physical fitness goals. Today, we are going to focus on four of them. Push-ups, sit-ups, pull-ups, and laps. The way I see it, this class owes me one hundred of each.”

The students gasped in shock, and Damian glared at Jason.

The teen thought to himself, _that’s going a little far, Todd. Sure, Jon and I could do that with no problem, but the rest of these children can’t._

Jason raised a hand, “I know that sounds like a lot, but let me explain. There are twenty of you in this class. If each of you do five push-ups, five times twenty equals one hundred. We’re going to take everyone’s totals and add them up to get one hundred. Does that sound a little better?”

The class murmured an assent that the goal didn’t seem so bad now. Jason continued, “We’re going to start with push-ups. Now, here’s the catch. Watch closely.”

Jason dropped and did four push-ups before standing up again. “How many push-ups did you count there?”

“Four,” the class said.

Jason shook his head, “Wrong. That was one. Back when I was in the Marines, those were called Cadence Push-ups. The count is, ‘1, 2, 3, 4, I Love the Marine Corps’. That counts as one. You each owe me five of those.”

Damian rolled his eyes hard. _You were never a Marine, you just watch Full Metal Jacket once a week_.

Jason blew his whistle, “Okay, let’s go. Get started. Count ‘em out loud!”

The class started doing push-ups, and some of the boys were laughing as they started in with the cadence. However, by the third set, most of the class had slowed down.

The entire class pushed through the set, and Jason smiled, “There you go. You’re a quarter of the way done with today’s tasks. While you’re all still down, turn over and let’s knock out the sit-ups. These are going to be a little bit different, too. You’re going to do Rope Climbers. Is everyone familiar with those?”

Most of the class said no, so Jason looked around before staring at Damian, “That’s okay. You, in the glasses, you’re going to demonstrate.”

Damian rolled his eyes, but had to follow along, to keep up his disguise as a student. He followed along as Jason said, “Lay on your back and stick your legs straight up in the air. Now, reach up and touch your toes. Once with the right hand, and down, and once with the left hand, and down. That counts as one rep. Each of you owes me five sets. This ought to be easier than the push-ups. Get started. I want to hear everyone counting, this time.”

This set of exercises, being much easier for the youths, as Jason thought it would be, was completed in just a little over a minute.

Jason grew an evil smirk as he said, “Good job, you’re halfway done. That was the easy half. Now, you’re going to run. Five laps is a long way around this field. Do as much as you can. For those who drop out, just know that someone else in the class will have to pick up your slack. One way or another, I’m getting my hundred laps. Get going.”

The class ran off, and Jason took a position where he could count laps.

“We’re going to have to have a long talk with Jason tonight,” Damian said to Jon.

“Do you think this is really a part of the class, or is he doing this because we’re here,” Jon asked.

“It has to be because of us,” Damian said, “You saw he was looking at the two of us when he talked about picking up the slack.”

The entire class finished the first lap, and Jason called out as they passed, “Good job, everyone. That’s twenty laps down. Keep it up.”

A second lap was completed, followed by another enthusiastic pep talk from Jason, which surprised Damian. “Forty laps down. You’re doing great.”

The third lap was completed, and Jason said, “That’s sixty. I see you’re sweating. That’s what your teacher wants.”

Damian was starting to get winded as he, Jon, and a group of boys passed Jason again. “That’s seventy. You’ve lost half the class. How many more are going to drop out this lap?”

Another lap completed, “Eighty down. You’re in the home stretch.”

Another lap, “Eighty-five. Are you going to make it to one hundred?”

“Ninety laps down,” Jason called, “Can you make it?”

“Ninety-three. Keep going, boys.”

Damian was shocked by the number. He looked around and was surprised to see only Jon and another boy still running with him. “How many more do you have in you,” Damian asked the third boy.

The boy was red and gasping, “This is it, man. I don’t know if I can finish this lap.”

“Hang in there, Pete,” Jon said, “We’re almost done.”

“Ninety-six,” Jason called out.

“Sorry,” Pete said as he nearly collapsed to the ground in exhaustion.

Still running, Damian said, “Two more laps each. How much do you have left in you, Jon?”

Jon smirked, “You’re kidding, right? How much do _you_ have left?”

Damian smiled, “This is still a warm-up, Jon. Let’s pick up the pace a bit.”

The class watched in shock as Jon and Damian ran noticeably faster over the next lap.

Passing Jason, the older brother said, “Move it, Short Stuff. You’re holding up my class.”

Damian growled, “I really hate him. Keep up, Jon. We’re going even faster.”

Damian started sprinting. Jon kept pace easily, but made it look like he was working hard. “You know I can keep up with Jai and Irey, right? This isn’t a problem.”

“Then, why are you sweating,” Damian taunted. Jon just smiled.

With half a lap left, Jon and Damian could hear the class calling out to them, cheering them on. As they approached the finish, the class stood and clapped, then broke into cheers as Jon and Damian passed Jason, completing the final lap.

“There’s your hundred, you bastard,” Damian murmured as he passed Jason.

“You two,” Mr. Donell called out, “Go get some water before meeting us at the pull-up bar.”

Damian and Jon, both red-faced, sweating profusely, and panting, just nodded and headed for the water fountain.

After a long drink of water, and a minute spent splashing water over his face, Damian stood up and took a deep breath. He would only admit to himself that his legs were burning.

“Do you realize we ran eleven laps,” Damian asked.

Jon’s eyes widened, “Really? Wow. I wasn’t keeping track.”

“You know we’re going to have to pick up the slack for the pull-ups too, right,” Damian asked.

Jon sighed, “I kind of figured we would.”

Damian nodded, “This did let me know something important, though.”

“What’s that,” Jon asked.

Damian smirked, “I can push the team much harder in training.”

Jon rolled his eyes while sighing, “Let’s just get back and see how many pull-ups we’ll have to do. We can worry about you running us into the ground on Saturday.”

The boys walked to the class, and Jon noticed that Damian was walking a bit stiffly on his sore legs. Jason smirked at the approaching youths, noticing the same altered gait that Jon did. Jon and Damian didn’t really pay attention to what was going on, until Jason spoke loudly, talking to the two boys standing at the back of the group, even though he phrased it to sound like he was talking to everyone.

“Well, this doesn’t look good at all. There are only a few minutes left of class. Eighteen students have had their turn, and the class has only put up a total of forty pull-ups. Don’t think you’re going anywhere until I get my one hundred pull-ups. Would my last two students step up, please?”

The class cleared the way to the steel bar for Damian and Jon. Jon looked at Damian, with a glance of concern that only Damian could read on his face, “How many can you do? I know you’re tired.”

Damian took a deep breath, “We only have to do thirty each. That bar is wide enough for both of us. Let’s just get up there and get it done.”

“I’ll keep up with you,” Jon said.

Damian looked up at the bar, then smirked. Jason caught the smirk and said to the class, “Count them out, everybody.”

The secret Super Sons jumped up and hung from the bar. Damian said, just loud enough for Jon to hear, “Floating is cheating, Jon. Do them right.”

“Right behind you.”

The boys started pulling and the class started counting. The tone of the counting students sounded pretty dejected as the first few pull-ups were completed. Jon and Damian passed ten, and the tone started to brighten. They passed twenty, and the class’ volume increased as they got closer to freedom.

“Twenty-six!”

“Twenty-seven!”

“Twenty-eight!”

“Twenty-nine!”

“THIRTY!!!!”

The class cheered as Jon and Damian reached the milestone. Not paying attention to anyone but themselves, they kept going. Damian was glaring daggers at Jason as he and Jon worked their way up to forty, before dropping from the bar to the applause of their fellow students.

Mr. Donell took over the class, “Good work today, everyone. You finished just in time. Go ahead and get changed, you’re done for today. We’ll see you all tomorrow.”

Jon and Damian approached their lockers, and were surrounded by the boys from their class. Warily, Damian asked, “What?”

“How did you do that?”

“Hard work,” Damian said with a smirk.

“You gotta exercise every day,” Jon said.

The rest of the class walked away, impressed with what they had seen. Damian pulled off his sweat-soaked shirt and used it to wipe his face and chest. “I could use a shower.”

“Me, too,” Jon said, “We can do that when we get home.”

The boys changed and walked out of the locker room. They headed for the front gate while waiting for the final bell to ring. 

“How do you do this every day? I forgot how tedious school actually is,” Damian said.

“Is college that much different,” Jon asked.

Damian looked around to make sure no one else was listening to their conversation, “Don’t say that so loud. The biggest difference is I take online courses. I sit at home on my laptop, not in class. I’ve only had to take one class on campus.”

“Um, are you going back to college,” Jon asked nervously. To Jon, that seemed like the last step in Damian’s recovery, to get back to his normal life.

Damian took a breath, “I couldn’t get back in for this semester, and I’m going to take the summer off. Father thought that would be a good idea. I’ll go back in the fall.”

“Cool,” Jon said as the final bell rang, “Can you tell me why you’re here now?”

Damian looked around the front of the school, which was quickly filling with students, as they poured out of their classrooms. “When we get home, and after a shower. I was told to go home with you. Where’s the car?”

Jon looked at Damian strangely, “I take the bus.”

Damian looked at Jon for a second before saying slowly, “Okay. I’ve never done that before.”

“How did you get here this morning,” Jon asked.

“Tim dropped me off,” Damian said, “I was told to go home with you. So, how do we do this? Do we have to pay the bus driver?”

Jon shook his head, “No, you just show the driver your bus pass.” Jon saw the shocked look on Damian’s face and judged the situation correctly, “You don’t have a bus pass, do you?”

“We obviously didn’t plan this too well,” Damian mumbled.

“Mr. Jones! Mr. Jones!”

_That’s Tim’s voice_. Damian and Jon turned to see Tim walking up to the pair. “What happened to you two,” Tim asked softly with a smile, seeing the exhausted condition of the youths.

“Jason happened,” Damian grumbled.

Tim spoke a little louder, “I’ve been looking all over for you, Mr. Jones. You dropped this in the computer lab.”

Damian took the card Tim held out and turned it over in his hands, “My bus pass. I’ve been looking all over for this. Thank you.”

Jon rolled his eyes at the act. _You had no idea what a bus pass was until a minute ago._

Tim winked at the boys, “Be more careful. You don’t want to lose that. See you tomorrow.”

Tim walked away, and Jon grabbed Damian’s elbow, “Come on, we’re going to miss the bus.”

_ Several Minutes Later…_

“Here’s our stop, let’s go.”

Damian looked around as they stepped off the bus. “You don’t live here.”

Jon shook his head, “Nope. This is the closest stop to our building, though. From here, we walk. It’s only five blocks.”

“That seems inconvenient,” Damian said.

Jon smirked, “What’s the farthest you had to walk from your school?”

“Alfred would make sure he got to the school to pick me up early enough to park right in front,” Damian said, “I usually just walked down the front steps and he was right there.”

“What did you think about the school,” Jon asked.

“It’s smaller than the Warrington School was, class size, I mean. We had far more students per class when I was in school.” Damian thought for a second, “I’m glad I graduated early. I should only be in the tenth grade right now. That would be terrible.”

“Did you ever actually do the seventh grade, or did you start in high school?”

Damian thought back, “I started in the seventh grade when I first came to Gotham. I was ten. I quickly got moved to the eighth grade. The school refused to move me any higher, due to my age. I showed them, though. They’re going to keep me back; I’ll just graduate at thirteen.”

The boys walked in silence for two blocks before Damian asked a question. “You seemed familiar with that bully at lunch. Does he bully you?”

Jon looked down, “Sometimes.”

“Why don’t you stand up to him? You’re…super. You could make him very sorry he tried messing with you.”

“Dad told me to just ignore it,” Jon said sadly.

Damian didn’t like the tone in Jon’s voice, “What does that do to you, though? You don’t have to put up with people putting you down. Maybe this should be next week’s training topic. How to deal with the real world.”

“I have a hard enough time making friends,” Jon said, “I don’t want to make things worse.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry about that bully, for the rest of the week, at least. He got suspended.”

Jon looked over, “You know, you shouldn’t make too many waves while you’re here. I’m guessing I’ll be with you a lot while you’re here. If you make trouble with the wrong people while you’re here, I’ll have to deal with it after you’re gone.”

The boys approached Jon’s building and Jon smiled, “Hey, you think your Dad might let you finish out the year here? It’s only, like, two and a half months. You already said you aren’t doing anything else.”

Damian gave a soft smile, “You’re allowed to make other friends at school, Jon. How about that Josh? He seemed nice.”

“_You_ didn’t make friends when _you_ went to school,” Jon pointed out.

“I’m different,” Damian said, “and, technically, I made one.”

“Who,” Jon asked.

“Robin,” Damian said, “Technically, we went to the same school before she moved to Alaska, even though we didn’t meet there, and never saw each other there. Anyway, no one has ever described me as one of the nicest kids in school, like the Vice-Principal said about you today.”

“He said that,” Jon asked in wonderment.

Damian nodded, “He did, and I believe him.”

The boys entered the apartment, and Damian asked, “Is it okay if I take a shower?”

“Sure,” Jon said.

Damian picked up his suitcase, which had been left by the front door, and walked through the spacious apartment to Jon’s bedroom. Jon pulled out his phone and flopped down on his bed as Damian headed for the shower.

“I’m home, Mom. Well, we’re home.”

“How was school, honey,” Lois asked through the phone.

“Strange,” Jon said, “Why didn’t anyone tell me about Damian before I got to class?”

“Talk to your Father about that,” Lois said, “Did you two get along?”

“Damian and I always get along,” Jon said happily, “I’ve never gone to school with my best friend before.”

“Did he have any problems fitting in,” Lois asked.

“Nu-uh,” Jon said, “It was amazing. He stood up to Brad, that guy who was bullying me at the beginning of the year. Damian got him suspended without a fight or anything. Do you think Mr. Wayne would let Damian finish out the school year here?”

Lois smiled, “I’ll let Damian take that one up with Bruce. This is just a short-term thing, so don’t get your hopes up. Get started on your homework, young man. I want it done before I get home from the office.”

“I’ll try, Mom,” Jon said as he hung up the phone.

Damian stuck his head into the bedroom. He was still toweling off his hair when he asked, “Did you say something to me?”

Jon held up his phone, “I was talking to Mom.”

Damian nodded, “Where should I put the towel?”

“Hang it on the clothesline in the laundry room,” Jon said, “Do you remember where that is?”

“Yeah,” Damian said, “Next to the kitchen.”

Damian returned to Jon’s bedroom, wearing a plain black t-shirt and jeans, and hung up his school uniform in Jon’s closet. Jon was looking over an assignment on his Lexpad, and Damian said, “You’ve waited long enough for an explanation on what I’m doing here.”

Jon gasped with a smile, putting his Lexpad back in his bag, and looked up at Damian excitedly. Damian looked down at his pocket, where his phone had started vibrating, “But I guess you’ll have to wait a bit longer.”

Damian answered his call and said, “Hello, Father.”

“Damian,” Bruce said seriously, “You’ve been enrolled in school for one day. Why did I get four calls from your teachers?”

Damian’s eyes widened, “Four calls? I didn’t do anything wrong. What were the calls?”

Bruce took a breath, “The first one was okay. It was just the Principal calling to welcome us to the school and the district. The second call was from your math teacher. She said you were talking back, sleeping in class, and generally being rude.”

“I was not,” Damian exclaimed. “Okay, I did fall asleep, but the material was easy, and her voice was droning and monotone. It’s her fault I fell asleep.”

“And being rude to a teacher?”

“I wasn’t _that_ rude,” Damian said, “Once she woke me up, by yelling and throwing things at me, by the way, she challenged me to solve a problem on the white board. So, I did.”

“She said that was when you were rude to her,” Bruce said.

Damian sighed, “I might have gloated a bit.”

Bruce let a breath go, “Damian, this is day one. You didn’t have this many issues in a month at your old school.”

“They’re just not used to students who don’t act like children,” Damian said, “I told you I don’t know how to do that.”

“Well, you need to figure it out before you go back tomorrow,” Bruce said.

“What were the other calls, Father,” Damian asked.

Bruce gathered his thoughts for a second before saying, “Your gym teacher wants you and Jon tested for steroids, and if you test clean, he wants you to join the school track team.”

Damian growled, “Yeah, you need to have a serious talk with Jason. He put a seventh-grade P.E. class through a League of Assassins-level exercise set, specifically because Jon and I were in the class, and he wanted to make us work.”

“The teacher said something about an impressive set of pull-ups,” Bruce said, “He said it was like you and Jon had been practicing just for this.”

Damian smiled, “Well, we have. I work my team, you know that. We only did forty pull-ups.”

Bruce sighed, “Son, for this week, you have to be a regular kid, and a regular kid cannot do forty continuous pull-ups. He said you two ran close to three miles at a full run.”

Damian shook his head, “Again, you need to reign Jason in, before he blows my cover.”

“You’ll probably see him before I do,” Bruce said.

“He went too far today, Father,” Damian said hotly.

Bruce sighed again, “Take a breath and calm down, kiddo. No use getting worked up about it now. It’s over.”

“Yeah, until gym class tomorrow.” Damian took a breath, then asked, “What was the last call?”

It took Bruce a second to get back on track, “Probably the most serious call. The Vice-Principal called and told me you got in a fight at lunch.”

Damian rolled his eyes, “No, I prevented a fight at lunch. A kid thought I would be a good target for bullying. I showed him he was wrong. The Vice-Principal told me I wasn’t in trouble for that. He even apologized on behalf of the school for the incident.”

“You didn’t do anything to provoke the incident,” Bruce asked suspiciously.

Damian shook his head, “Jon and I were eating lunch alone. This kid came up to us. I tried ignoring him, but he wouldn’t go away. I stopped him from stealing my glasses, then reported him to the Resource Officer, when he came to ask what was going on. I guess everyone else is afraid of him and doesn’t report what he does.”

The line was quiet for a second, then Bruce said, “Damian, no calls tomorrow. Keep your head down and focus on both parts of your mission. Call me if you need anything.”

“Yes, Father,” Damian said as he hung up his phone.

“Frickin’ school,” Damian said as he pulled the air mattress out of Jon’s closet.

“What happened,” Jon asked.

“They called Father four times for things that aren’t even incidents. Mrs. March called and complained about my attitude, just because I showed her up. Mr. Donell thinks we’re taking drugs, due to our performance in P.E., and Mr. Connor narc-ed me out for that thing at lunch.”

“Are you in trouble,” Jon asked.

Damian sat on Jon’s bed as the air mattress inflated, “Only if Father keeps getting calls from the school.”

“Keep your head down,” Jon said, echoing Bruce’s advice, “I’ll help you with that. I can help you with your mission, too.”

Jon’s smile was unmistakable, and Damian tried not to laugh, “Okay, I guess I’ve put you off for long enough.” Damian reached into his backpack and pulled out his tablet, “Here it is. The whole mission.”

Jon looked at the device strangely, “Your Lexpad? What about it?”

Damian turned the device over in his hands, admiring it from all angles, “The Lexpad. An educational, technological marvel. A rugged, compact device that is capable of taking schools into the future. This one device nearly eliminates the need for paper on school campuses. That also greatly lessens the need for pens and pencils, printers, ink, and any number of costly supplies. The implementation of Lexpads in schools has the potential to save school districts billions over the next few years. Schools no longer have to worry about storing and maintaining costly textbooks. Your books can be downloaded whenever, and always kept up to date with the newest revisions. They also level the playing field. With Lexcorp giving these things away for free, affluent and low income students alike reap the benefits. The device makes its own 5G Wi-Fi hot spot, so it can always be connected, even if parents can’t afford an internet connection. The power cell is big enough to last five days between charges, even with twenty-four hour a day, constant use.”

Damian pulled a thumb drive out of his backpack and plugged it into the USB slot on the pad. He tapped the screen, then said, “Get yours out, Jon.”

Jon pulled his Lexpad out of his backpack, and Damian plugged the thumb drive into Jon’s device after taking it out of his own.

A minute later, Damian unplugged the drive with a smile, “There. Now Lexcorp and the schools can’t spy on us.”

Jon looked at Damian strangely, “What do you mean?”

Damian pointed to a small hole and a small black circle on the front of Jon’s Lexpad, “Camera and microphone.”

Jon rolled his eyes, “The first thing I did when I got mine was to disable those in the system settings.”

Damian nodded, “Good, but that only takes care of the active monitoring. That doesn’t do anything for the passive monitoring.”

Jon cocked his head, “What’s that?”

“Have you ever heard of Smart TV’s, Google Home, Amazon Alexa, Siri, Simplisafe?” Jon nodded. “All those devices were investigated and found to collect far more information than they report. These devices are classified as ‘always listening’. We’re trying to see just how much they’re recording at any given time.”

“So, your mission is…wait, is it recording now? Should we go in the other room?”

Damian smiled, “We’re safe, if Tim’s program is working right. The thumb drive installed a ghost program that monitors the monitors.”

“What’s a ghost program,” Jon asked.

“It’s a program we got from the ghost in the guest room,” Damian said with a smirk.

Jon returned the smirk, “So, you finally believe us, that the guest room is haunted? How can you stand it, being right next to your room?”

“It’s not haunted,” Damian said in an exasperated tone, “There are pipes in the wall for the plumbing. There’s also an old pneumatic tube and a dumbwaiter that go straight up to the third floor. That’s where the noises come from, not ghosts.”

“Then who gave you the ghost program,” Jon asked with a large grin.

“TIM,” Damian nearly shouted in frustration, “and, he’s not a ghost.”

“Hey, don’t yell at me. _You’re_ the one who brought up the haunted guest room.”

Damian opened his mouth, then shook his head, “You’re right, I did. A ghost program is a program that’s written in a way where the system doesn’t know it’s there. The program is analyzing the passive monitoring software, and working to counter it.”

“Wait,” Jon asked, “the Lexpad is still listening to us?”

“It thinks it is,” Damian said. “Instead of hearing us, the program is sending white noise to the server, making it believe no one is around the Lexpad.”

“So, your mission is to analyze student security with the Lexpad,” Jon asked. “Why didn’t you just borrow mine for this, instead of enrolling in school?”

“Several reasons,” Damian said, “First of all, several features on the Lexpad make it necessary to use a pad that isn’t connected to you. Two features of the ‘always connected’ nature make it nearly impossible to just steal a Lexpad. Within two minutes of severing the internet connection, the parents of the registered user of any Lexpad will receive a call, reporting possible damage to the Lexpad, and a technician will be dispatched to repair or replace the unit same day. Also, the Lexpad is equipped with a GPS that cannot be disabled. So, we can’t just borrow yours and take it to the Watchtower for examination. Since the GPS can’t be turned off, it can be found immediately once reported stolen.”

Jon shrugged, “We wouldn’t have reported it stolen.”

Damian shook his head, “The GPS data is sent to the Lexpad servers every week automatically, along with the internal diagnostic data. Don’t you think it would be a little suspicious if your GPS reported the pad was in your bedroom one minute, then in Earth orbit the next?”

“You could take it to Mount Justice for examination,” Jon suggested, “That’s on the planet.”

Damian nodded, “Yes, it is, but we still have the same problem. Instead of being in space, Mount Justice is over four hundred miles away. This whole mission was assembled to protect you, and the rest of my team. It has to be done this way.”

Jon thought critically for half a minute, “Do you think Lexcorp is after the training group?”

Damian sighed, “Well, yes. Let me explain.”

“Please,” Jon said, “This is confusing.”

Damian collected his thoughts for a second, “You just started using the Lexpads this year at school, right?”

Jon nodded, “Yeah. Mr. Luthor came to the school himself on the first day of school to announce the trial program.”

“They were given to every elementary, middle, and high school student in the city of Metropolis,” Damian said, “How long do you think the Lexpad program was in development?”

Jon shrugged, “I don’t know. Probably a couple years?”

Damian considered the answer for a second, “Well, the Lexpads themselves probably took that long to develop. How surprised would you be if I told you that all of the programs that make this an excellent school tool were developed and installed in less than four months?”

Jon’s eyes widened in surprise, “Only four months? I guess I’d be very surprised. How do you know it was only four months?”

“From internal Lexcorp documents that were made public when the Lexpad program was announced. Metropolis schools, of course, were used as the test population. A month later, Lexpads were distributed to students at every Gotham City school, and every Central City school. By Christmas, every student in Jump City had a Lexpad, and the rollout was expanded to San Francisco. Does that list of cities sound suspicious to you?”

“Metropolis, Gotham City, Central City, Jump City, San Francisco,” Jon’s eyes widened, “The Team! But, what does it mean?”

Damian took a breath, “During the Pure Earth crisis, Batman, Superman, and Wonder Woman addressed the U. N., in a session that was broadcast worldwide. During their testimony, they confirmed the existence of our training group to the world. Ever since, there has been intense online speculation about who is in our group, and who we actually are. Our civilian identities, I mean.”

“Why would Lex Luthor want that information,” Jon asked.

“Why _wouldn’t_ Lex Luthor, or almost anyone else, want that information? What would the League do to keep that information secret?”

_I never thought about that before,_ Jon thought, _it’s kinda scary, actually._ “Wow,” Jon said softly, leaning back against the wall. He thought for several minutes before he said, “So, you think Luthor programmed the Lexpads to listen for keywords through the passive monitoring feature, and will use that information to narrow down a list of possible disguised heroes, then, will use that information against us, in one way or another?”

Damian stared at Jon for a full minute before standing and giving a round of applause. “You get it! That was a perfect explanation of half of my mission.”

Jon blushed, “Thanks. Wait, half of your mission?”

“Yes. Half,” Damian said.

“What’s the other half,” Jon asked.

Damian sat down again and crossed his legs under him on the bed, “In the cities where the Lexpads have been distributed, there has been an unrelated rise in minor medical ailments. Migraines, eye strain, exhaustion, common illnesses. All are seen in school-aged kids. The League wants to make sure those illnesses are actually unrelated.”

Jon nodded, “Okay. Wow. How can I help you with your mission?”

“By doing what you’re doing,” Damian said, “This week, we’re just two normal students. You handled today perfectly. Thank you for trusting me, and for following a mission I couldn’t possibly brief you on any sooner than now.”

Jon shrugged, “Following your lead usually works out for me. Anyway, you promised an explanation, and you kept that promise.”

“I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

Jon and Damian turned to look at the familiar voice coming from the boy’s bedroom door. Damian jumped to his feet as Jason stood in the doorway, smirking at the youths.

“You sadistic son of a bitch!”

Jason’s smirk grew, and Damian asked, “Do you know how close you came to blowing my cover today?”

“Blow your cover,” Jason scoffed, “I turned you two into the class heroes today.”

“I’m not _supposed_ to be the class hero,” Damian snapped, “I’m supposed to blend in and do my job, and when I leave, people are supposed to forget I ever existed. It’s kind of hard to blend in when you put us in a spotlight.”

“No one ever said that you two had to do all of the work,” Jason said.

“Um, _you_ did,” Jon said, walking up behind Damian.

Jason smiled, “And you actually believed the school would let us make you stay after school hours because of some pull-ups? Come on, you two are smarter than that. You did impress me today, Squirt. I didn’t think you’d be able to keep up with Superboy.”

Damian looked at Jon, then said, “Jon kept up with me, so that he didn’t look too Super. We both should have kept up with the other students, though.”

“Why didn’t you,” Jason asked.

Damian smirked, “Because we weren’t going to let you win.”

Jon snorted a laugh, and Jason said, “So, I wasn’t the one who blew your cover, after all. You’d better save some of your strength for tomorrow, though.”

“There _won’t_ be a repeat of today,” Damian said authoritatively, “Father’s orders, for both me _and_ you. Thanks to what you made us do, he got a call from the school. He’s going to have some words for you later.”

Jon eyed Jason and asked, “Are you staying here, too?”

Jason shook his head, “No. The Replacement and I have a hotel room a couple of miles away. I just wanted to check in on my targets…I mean, my favorite students.”

Tim walked into Jon’s bedroom and nodded at the boys. “Boys, how’s it going?”

“You’re a better teacher than Todd is,” Damian said, while staring at Jason.

Jason nudged Tim, “You were supposed to make them run laps.”

Tim rolled his eyes, “Kind of hard to do that in a computer lab. Damian?”

Damian nodded, “Your program has been installed on both of our Lexpads.”

Tim nodded, “Good. That will send diagnostic data to me, along with circumventing the surveillance. Normal student usage tonight and in class tomorrow, to give me a baseline of what the pads can do. Tomorrow, I’ll be over to run some diagnostics and work the next level of the program.”

Damian cocked his head, “I just thought of something. Is there a way to get your program to the rest of my team? Better safe than sorry, right?”

“Bruce thought of that last night, too. Dick should be making stops at all of your team’s homes tonight, after work.” Tim patted Damian’s shoulder, “Good job with the hack today. You covered it well.”

Damian gave a small smile, “Thanks for finding a way for me to talk with Father.”

Tim smiled, “You won’t be able to do that much this week. This week won’t be as bad as other long-term assignments, but he’ll miss you, too.”

The front door of the apartment opened, and Jon’s eyes widened, “Mom’s home. We need to get started on our homework, or she’ll be mad.”

Tim pointed at Damian, “Don’t forget the third part of your mission.”

“The third part,” Damian asked, confused.

“Jon’s grades are not to fall because you’re here,” Tim said, “Tutor him, if you have to.”

Damian rolled his eyes, “I think he’ll be fine, but I can help him, if he needs it.”

“Good,” Tim said. “Remember, you’re seventh-graders this week.”

“I’m always a seventh-grader,” Jon said.

Tim smiled at the younger boy, then looked Damian in the eye, “What I mean is, you need to do seventh grade work. You can leave the college-level thesis for when you do your own thesis. Take it easy this week.”

Lois walked up behind Tim and Jason, “Well, did my boy behave in class today?”

Jason turned and smiled, “He was a very good boy, despite the bad influence.”

“What bad influence,” Lois asked sternly.

Damian rolled his eyes, “He means me, Mrs. Kent. Or, is it Mrs. Lane?”

Lois shrugged, “Whichever. Is your homework done yet?”

“You’re home early, Mom,” Jon said.

“So, that’s a no,” Lois said, “Get it done.”

“It’s their fault,” Damian said, pointing at Jason and Tim while hiding his smile from the woman, “They’ve been distracting us for the past half hour.”

Lois turned a glare on Damian’s older brothers, who just barely hid their flinches at the look, “I only agreed to this arrangement under the provision that it wouldn’t affect Jon’s school work. You can discuss your mission to your heart’s content, _after _their homework is done.”

“See you tomorrow, boys,” Tim said.

Tim and Jason left, and Lois turned to look at Jon and Damian. She planted her fists on her hips and asked, “Well, what are you waiting for?”

“A hug,” Jon asked with a small smile.

Lois’ stern look dissolved into a smile and she hugged her son, then surprised Damian with a short hug. “Okay, get to it. I’ll bring you a snack in a minute.”

**A/N: This one should be fun. I was sitting at work the other day (which, by the time you read this, will actually be a couple months ago) looking over my timeline and pending stories, and I decided I wanted more Super Sons. I thought about possible stories, and wondered what I could do with our boys in school together. An idea started to coalesce in my mind, and here it is. This will be five chapters long, but the rest of the chapters shouldn’t be quite this long (maybe?).**

**Ibn Al Xu’ffasch was Damian’s name in his very first appearance, back in 1988. I don’t know if it actually translates as ‘Son of the Bat’, but that is what the original comic book claimed. Yes, Damian did actually debut in 1988. He was only shown in one or two frames at the end of one comic, but it was Bruce’s son with Talia. He wasn’t named Damian until he was brought back in the early 2000’s.**

**The Super Sons comic put the boys at the West-Reeve school, named after Adam West and George Reeves, who played Batman and Superman, respectively, on television in the 1950’s and 1960’s. My boys are attending Hackman Middle School. Gene Hackman, of course, played Lex Luthor in the Christopher Reeve Superman movies.**

**There is a second reason I’m writing this story. In looking at my upcoming timeline, it’s getting pretty dark. I felt I needed to put some levity out, because just about all of my 2019 stories are pretty harsh and bleak. You’d better buckle up, because it’s going to be a bumpy ride over the next nine or ten stories.**

**Thanks for playing along.**


	2. Tuesday

School Days

Chapter 2

_Tuesday…_

“Morning, D.”

“Morning.”

Jon rolled over and stared wide-eyed at his guest. Damian’s eyes were just as wide as he sat up on the air mattress, next to Jon’s bed.

“What happened to your voice,” Jon asked.

Damian shook his head. In the one word he’d said since waking up, his voice went from softly accented to harsh and raspy. Damian rubbed his throat and spoke softly, “It’s been almost six years since I’ve used my normal voice exclusively. Maybe my accent isn’t an accent anymore.”

“Did talking yesterday hurt,” Jon asked.

“No,” Damian said, shaking his head, “It was a bit of a strain to keep it up, though.”

“Try not to talk so much today,” Jon said.

“I might not have much of a choice in that,” Damian said.

“I heard you alarm go off. You better not still be asleep, Jonathan,” Lois called out, slapping Jon’s closed bedroom door, “Breakfast in ten minutes.”

“We’re up, Mom,” Jon called out.

He looked at Damian and asked, “Do you want to get into the bathroom first?”

Damian stood and stretched before grabbing his school uniform, “If you don’t mind.”

“Go ahead,” Jon said.

Damian walked out of Jon’s room while yawning and rubbing his eyes. He wasn’t looking where he was going and ran directly into Clark.

“Huh,” Damian asked, then looked up, “Oh. Sorry. Good Morning, Mr. Kent.”

Clark smiled down at the teen, “Good morning, Damian. Sleep well?”

“I slept fine,” Damian rasped.

“Are you feeling alright,” Clark asked, “What’s wrong with your throat?”

“I spent a day speaking in a different voice,” Damian said, “It put more of a strain on my throat than I thought it would.”

Clark nodded, “Okay. Try to take it easy today.”

“I’ll try,” Damian said, slipping around Clark and into the bathroom.

_Ten Minutes Later…_

“Come on, Damian. Breakfast is ready.”

Damian opened the bathroom door and asked, “What was that?”

Jon was surprised at the sight before him. He expected Damian to be ready to go. Instead, his hair was sticking up, he wasn’t wearing a shirt, and he was running his electric razor over his cheek.

“You’re not ready yet?”

“I just need a couple more minutes. I talked to your Father for a minute before getting in here.”

Damian turned off his razor, checked his face for stubble he might have missed, then turned on the sink and dunked his head under the faucet. Jon just stared at the teen, until Damian turned off the tap and held out a hand.

“Towel, please?”

Jon grabbed a towel off the bar and handed it to Damian, who dried his hair before combing it.

“Did you need to get in here, Jon,” Damian asked as he ran gel through his hair.

“I can wait until after breakfast,” Jon said, “which is waiting for us. Let’s go, before Mom gets mad.”

Damian pulled his shirt on and started buttoning it as the boys walked towards the dining room.

“Um, don’t you want an undershirt,” Jon asked, “You know, to cover your scars during P.E.?”

“Oh, right,” Damian said, “I’ll get one after breakfast.”

Lois met the boys at the end of the hall. “There you two are. You have twenty minutes until you have to leave to catch the bus. You’re running behind.”

“That’s my fault, Mrs. Lane,” Damian said, “I haven’t had to get ready for school in a couple years.”

Lois shook her head, “Your voice is worse than Clark led me to believe. Would you drink some hot tea?”

Damian’s eyes widened at the offer. _I haven’t had a good cup of tea in a long time. I bet this will just be from a tea bag, though._ “Yes, thank you. That should help.”

“Eat, you two,” Lois said, “Time is ticking.”

The boys sat at the table and dug into their bowls of cereal. Lois brought in a cup of tea, with the tea bag still in it.

“Thank you,” Damian said, taking a sip. _Yep, tea bag. Alfred was just overcome with depression at home right now, and he has no idea why._

Jon shuddered, “How can you drink that stuff?”

Damian shrugged, “For a tea bag, this actually isn’t so bad. Fresh is always much better, though.”

Jon shook his head, “No, thank you.”

Jon finished breakfast first, and ran back into the bathroom to finish getting ready for school. Damian finished a minute later and walked back into Jon’s room to put on an undershirt under his school uniform, and found Lois with a phone pressed to her ear, calling through the bathroom door to Jon.

“Didn’t you eat lunch last week, Jon?”

“I had lunch,” Jon called back.

“Then why is there still eighteen dollars in your school account,” Lois asked.

Jon’s response was unintelligible, due to the toothbrush in the boy’s mouth.

Damian stepped into the hall, buttoning his shirt again, “I did that, Mrs. Kent. I didn’t have anything smaller than a twenty, and Jon didn’t have enough in his account to cover both of us, so I had them put the change in Jon’s account.”

Lois looked at Damian, “Why didn’t you just use your account? Didn’t Bruce set one up for you? I told him to.”

Damian nodded, “He did, but the school didn’t get me my ID card until after lunch.”

Lois rolled her eyes, “I’ll pay you back.”

Damian shook his head, then spoke to Lois quietly, “Don’t. I told Jon to think of it as rent for staying here this week. I’m sure we owe you more than that, but you don’t have to pay us.”

“That’s nice of you, Damian,” Lois said, understanding what Damian was saying, and what he wasn’t saying. _I really like Jon having friends he can be himself with._

Jon emerged from the bathroom and smiled, “Ready to go?”

Damian nodded, “All set.”

Lois looked at her watch, “It’s a bit later today. I’ll drop you at the bus stop on my way to work. Go get your stuff.”

The boys grabbed their backpacks and followed Lois to the door. Lois looked at the youths, “Do you have your Lexpads?”

“Yes,” both boys said.

“School ID’s?”

“Yes.”

“Bus pass?”

“Yes.”

“Glasses?”

Lois smiled as both boys turned and trotted back to Jon’s bedroom. They returned seconds later wearing nearly matching spectacles.

“Yes,” they both said.

Lois smiled at the kids, “Let’s go.”

_Later…_

Jon and Damian took their seats in their homeroom and waited for class to start.

Jon shook his head, “This is still so weird that you’re here.”

“For me, too,” Damian said, “Do I sound that far off from yesterday?”

“It’s not bad,” Jon said, “Just don’t talk too much today.”

“Father’s orders were to keep my head down,” Damian said as the bell rang to start class.

“Alright, folks,” Mr. Kirby said, standing up from his desk, “Settle down, we have a lot to go through in a short amount of time. I’m not supposed to tell you this, but the school planned a fire drill for just about half an hour from now. I don’t know why they schedule these things for first period. Okay, let’s go. Pads out. Submit your homework and pull up today’s reading. Today, we’re continuing with analytical reading and identifying parts of speech. Now, I want all of you to read the paragraphs under today’s reading. There are only two, so it should only take a couple minutes.”

The class read the selection while Mr. Kirby wrote the first sentence on the white board. _Is this really what they do in the seventh grade now,_ Damian thought. _I was doing this in three different languages when I was five. You’re smarter than this, Jon, I know you are. Why don’t you try to work ahead?_

Mr. Kirby spoke to the class when the increased noise level told him the class had finished with the reading. “Okay, we’re going to do this together. I’ll point to the word, and you all call out the part of speech.”

The class droned out the answers, and Mr. Kirby continued. “Very good. Remember, this will be on your test on Thursday. Let’s do another. The first sentence of the second paragraph, please.”

This time, Mr. Kirby called out a word in the sentence and pointed to students at random for the answers. Jon was called on for the third word, an adjective, while Damian was called for the sixth word, a relatively tricky, at least for the rest of the class, preposition.

Before Mr. Kirby could continue his lesson, the fire alarm blared. Damian just barely kept himself from shooting out of his seat at the loud noise. Damian wasn’t the only one who jumped in the class, but he was the only one who broke out in a cold sweat.

Mr. Kirby sighed and called over the alarm, “Leave your stuff. Stand up and file out of the building. Follow me once we get outside.”

As the class walked out to the field, Jon leaned over and asked softly, “Are you okay?”

Damian blushed bright red at his reaction being caught by his friend and mumbled, “I don’t like loud noises. I never have.”

Jon was concerned at Damian’s statement. _I’ve never seen D react like that before. With everything he’s been through, I would think something like this wouldn’t bother him._ “You’re okay, D,” Jon whispered, just loud enough for Damian to hear, “It’s just a drill. You’re safe.”

“Thanks, Jon,” Damian breathed, surprised that the soft reassurance actually made him feel better.

“I take it you aren’t going to tell me why you don’t like loud noises,” Jon asked.

Damian thought for a second, then said softly, “When you’re trained in hypervigilance, like I was, where even the smallest noise can be deadly, loud noises usually mean bigger problems. Also, I have really good hearing. I think you know that. My ears can be really sensitive sometimes. Loud noises, like alarms, car horns, even people talking too loud, can physically hurt.”

“Wow,” Jon said quietly, surprised to get an answer to his question, especially in this environment.

“Hey, guys.”

Jon and Damian turned to see their approaching classmate.

“Hello,” Damian said.

“Hey, Josh,” Jon said.

Josh smiled widely as he said, “You two are never going to believe what I heard. Hey, Suzy! Come over here.”

A girl approached the boys and nervously said, “Hi.”

“Tell them what you told me,” Josh said, “You know, about Brad.”

Suzy’s eyes widened a bit, “Oh, yeah. Hey, you’ll like this. I live a few houses down from Brad. We’ve never liked him. He gets in fights with my older brother all the time. His Dad was yelling at him for almost an hour last night. The whole block was listening to it. I guess he was in the back yard, or something. Get this, his Dad said he just blew his last chance. He’s pulling him out of school and sending Brad to a Military School. His Dad said he’d leave this weekend. He’s not coming back here!”

Jon gasped happily, “He’s gone? He’s not going to pick on us anymore?”

“He’s gone,” Suzy exclaimed. “His Dad got angry at the whole block, too.”

“How come,” Damian asked.

Suzy smiled, “Well, I said the whole block was listening. When Brad’s dad yelled that he was sending Brad away, people started clapping and cheering. His Dad stood on his front lawn and started cussing out the whole neighborhood.”

“You better make sure Brad actually goes before you start celebrating,” Damian said. “If he doesn’t go to Military School somehow, and comes back here, he’s going to be worse than he was.”

Josh took a deep breath, “I didn’t think of that. Suzy, you need to keep a watch and keep us updated.”

“I will,” Suzy said, nodding.

Mr. Kirby whistled loudly, to get the attention of his class, “Okay, drill is over. Let’s get back to class.”

Inside the classroom again, Mr. Kirby gave a pronounced sigh, “What a waste of a period. We don’t have enough time to get into the next segment. You’ve got ten minutes until the end of the period. You can get started on your homework, or do whatever. Just keep the noise down.”

Mr. Kirby sighed as he sat at his desk. Jon turned to Damian, but the older boy was focusing on his Lexpad. “How long is this assignment going to take you?”

Damian shrugged, “I haven’t looked at it yet. I have to say, I like this thing, even if Lex Luthor implemented its development. This is, seriously, a billion-dollar idea.”

Jon nodded, “It’s a good idea.”

“Do you have any idea how much easier school would have been with this, when I actually went through it?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Damian,” Jon said, then lowered his voice, so only Damian could hear, “Don’t blow your cover.”

Damian’s eyes widened under his glasses, “Right.”

“I’m not supposed to be the one reminding you of that,” Jon whispered as he looked at his own Lexpad.

“No, you’re not,” Damian murmured, “Thanks for doing it anyway.”

The bell rang a couple minutes later, and the boys packed their bags and headed for their math class.

Damian stopped outside of the room and said, “Save my seat. I’ll be in in a minute.”

Jon was confused by the request, but just shrugged and entered the class.

“Mrs. March?”

The woman stopped as she approached the room, “What is it, Jones?”

_Hopefully, this will make the rest of my time here a little easier,_ Damian thought. He swallowed hard before saying, “I wanted to apologize for my behavior yesterday. I had a long talk with my Father, and I was out of line. I’m sorry.”

Mrs. March gave a quick, victorious smile. She didn’t think that Damian caught the look, but he did. “Don’t let it happen again, Jones,” Mrs. March said in a haughty tone.

_I’m trying to be nice here, and that’s your reaction? Alright. You want to play it that way, try this on for size._ Damian spoke quickly, before the woman could enter the classroom, “I was out of line, but Father was also very interested in what you didn’t tell him. You know, your way of waking up students who happen to fall asleep in your class. Yelling at students in class really isn’t any more conducive to learning than sleeping in class.”

“Neither is threatening teachers, Mr. Jones,” Mrs. March said darkly.

_Oh, good. She understands where this is going._ “Do you feel threatened, Mrs. March,” Damian asked, in a tone he would usually reserve for speaking with criminals as Robin, “Usually, only those who are _guilty_ of something feel threatened by facts.”

The bell rang, and Damian’s tone changed again, “You do know that these Lexpads record everything, right? Such useful items.”

Damian turned and walked into the classroom, leaving the stunned teacher standing in the hall. Mrs. March hadn’t known that little fact about the Lexpads.

_Fifty-five Minutes Later…_

“What did you do,” Jon hissed urgently as he walked out of the classroom behind Damian after math class.”

“I don’t know what you mean, Jonathan,” Damian said innocently.

“Don’t give me that,” Jon said, “That’s the nicest Mrs. March has ever been. What did you say to her before class?”

Damian shrugged, “I apologized for being rude to her yesterday.”

“That’s all it took,” Jon asked in disbelief.

Damian’s slight grin took on an evil tone, “Well, that, and reminding her that the Lexpads are always watching, listening, and recording. I’m guessing she does a lot more in her classes than just teach.”

Jon shook his head slowly, “Amazing. Do you just threaten everyone you meet?”

Damian thought for a second, then shrugged, “What good is having leverage over someone if they don’t know you have it?”

The boys walked down the hall, and Damian angled towards the rest room. He stopped as a group of boys entered ahead of him.

Jon nearly ran Damian over at the quick stop, “Why did you stop?”

“A group of people just went in there,” Damian said.

Jon looked at the restroom door, then back at Damian, “And?”

Damian spoke softly, “The last time I used a school restroom, I got beaten up. It just…I don’t know why I thought of that now.”

“Did you want me to go in with you,” Jon asked.

Damian glanced at Jon, “Never say that again.”

Jon smiled as he turned away, “I’ll see you in the Computer Lab.”

Several minutes later, Damian sat down in the Computer Lab and heaved a sigh. “I’ve been all over the world. That bathroom has to be one of the most disgusting places I’ve ever been.”

Jon just shrugged, “I should have warned you. I try not to use that one, if I can avoid it. The one in the locker room is actually much cleaner than that one.”

“Well, I couldn’t have held it until sixth period,” Damian said.

“Um…did…” Jon looked down before plowing ahead with his question, “Did we ever hear about…what happened at your last school?”

Damian thought for a second, _I don’t know if I ever told the team what actually happened._ “I don’t know,” Damian said, “You saw it, but I don’t know if I ever explained anything.”

“We saw it,” Jon asked, confused. “I think I would have remembered something like that.”

“You didn’t see the beating,” Damian said, “Just the aftermath.”

Jon thought for a second, “Wait, was that when we were…talking about joining the team?”

_He remembers. Good. _“Yes, it was.”

“Well, what happened?”

Damian looked around the empty computer lab, then spoke softly, “I was in a modified program at my last school. Independent study, mostly. On what turned out to be my last day of school, I had to go to a regular class. I was already done with all my work, so I just sat there and read a book while the class took a test. The teacher told a couple older boys in the class that I didn’t have to take the test. She didn’t tell them why, but she did tell them my name. A lot of…assumptions…come with my name. After class, those boys cornered me in the bathroom and beat the hell out of me. Father pulled me out of school that day, but it didn’t really matter. I’d already finished all my work, so I could graduate.”

The door opened and a couple students walked into the room. Damian turned to his computer, like he and Jon hadn’t been talking. _I wonder if it is just with me,_ Jon thought. _Damian has been answering all my questions about his past. Does he plan on telling the rest of the team all of this, or…does he actually like me? Is this what brothers actually do?_

“Okay. Good morning, class. Today, we’re going to…”

Jon, Damian, and the three other students in the room glanced at Tim strangely as he tried to start class with an almost-empty room.

“Class doesn’t start for another six minutes,” one of the boys sitting in the back row said.

Tim blushed a bit and sat down at the teacher’s desk, “Right. Thanks.”

Jon and Damian were snickering to each other. Tim sent a light glare at Damian, but nothing that would be noticed by anyone else.

Halfway through a relatively standard, and boring, typing lesson, Damian saw a message pop up in the bottom corner of his screen.

‘B has been trying to text you.’

‘Checking up on me’, Damian asked in reply.

‘He talked to C this morning. Are you feeling alright?’

Damian rolled his eyes before typing his reply. ‘It’s just a sore throat. I guess my accent isn’t an accent anymore.’

‘Text him when you go to lunch.’

‘Can’t,’ Damian typed, ‘I don’t have a cover phone, and mine definitely doesn’t belong to Damian Jones. I left it at the apartment.’

Tim looked over at Damian for a second before responding. ‘Good thinking. I’ll text him and let him know you’re okay. Call him after school. I’ll be over again tonight.’

‘Will do,’ Damian replied before closing the chat window.

_Lunch…_

Jon and Damian carried their lunch trays, with today’s selection of chicken sandwiches, to the lunch tables. Damian had to catch his napkin before it blew off of his tray as they exited the building.

“Kind of windy today,” Damian pointed out.

Jon turned his head, to keep dust from blowing into his eyes, “Welcome to Metropolis in March. It’s always like this here this time of year.”

The boys looked around, and Damian asked, “Where should we sit?”

Jon smiled and nodded at a table, “How about over there, with Josh, before his arm falls off from waving at us.”

The boys walked over to the table. Jon couldn’t help but notice that Damian sat with his back to the brick wall, where no one could sneak up behind him.

Damian picked up his sandwich, but looked around before taking a bite. “Why is everyone staring at us,” Damian asked.

Josh looked around, then said, “You’re kidding, right? The whole school heard about what happened with Brad. You’re a hero, Damian. No one ever stood up to Brad like you did.”

“Why not,” Damian asked.

Josh and Jon looked down, and Jon answered, “Everyone was afraid of him. He beat up a kid once just for spilling a drink in front of him. He didn’t even get any of it on Brad, either.”

“Why weren’t you scared of him,” Suzy asked, sitting down at the table, next to Damian.

Damian looked at the girl for a second before saying, “Thanks to my Dad’s job, I’ve lived all over the world. Compared to other bullies I’ve seen, Brad is nothing. Anyway, I don’t like being picked on, so I wasn’t going to put up with it.”

“But, he was bigger and stronger than you,” Suzy said.

Damian smirked, “Maybe bigger. He’s nothing I couldn’t have handled.”

“Brad’s a black belt in Karate,” Josh said, “He tries to scare people with that all the time.”

Damian leaned forward, like he was imparting a dear secret, “So am I. I’ve also studied Tae Kwon Do, Judo, Kung Fu, and Mixed Martial Arts…along with a few others. Where do you live, Suzy? I think I’d like to see how good Brad really is.”

Suzy smiled demurely at Damian, “You can come over to my house anytime.”

Damian eyed the girl. _Uh-oh. I know that tone. Robin gets that tone of voice sometimes…when she wants to get me in bed._ “I’ll keep it in mind,” Damian said.

The bell rang, ending lunch, and the awkward silence. The boys stood and said, “See you tomorrow, Suzy,” all at the same time.

Suzy looked at the three boys and asked, “Are you all going to the same class?”

Jon nodded, “History. We all have the same class.”

Suzy looked slightly unhappy, “I have math next. Oh well. See you tomorrow.”

The boys walked away, and Josh nudged Damian, “Dude, she was totally flirting with you.”

“I know,” Damian said.

“Why don’t you flirt back, or ask her out,” Jon asked.

Damian shot the disguised super youth a look that screamed ‘You know why!’ “I don’t know,” Damian covered, “I mean, this is the first time we’ve said more than hello to each other. I’ve, um, never moved fast with girls before.”

Jon had to bite his tongue hard at that statement. He knew full well that Damian fell for Robin within minutes of meeting her.

“Have you ever had a girlfriend, Damian,” Josh asked.

Damian grew a wistful look, thinking of Robin. “Once,” he said softly.

“Alright, let’s go,” Mr. Phipps said as the students filed into the classroom. “We have a lot to cover today. Take your seats. Let’s get started.”

_An Hour Later…_

Damian heaved a sigh as he and Jon left the class. “I just remembered; we have P.E. next.”

Jon’s eyes widened, “Oh, with Mr. Todd. Think he’s going to work us to death again today?”

“He better not,” Damian said darkly.

Jon smirked, “How are your legs feeling?”

Damian rolled his eyes, “Better than they were this morning.”

Jon’s smile grew, “I noticed you stopped limping by lunch.”

The boys changed into their P.E. clothes and walked out of the locker room.

Jon said, “Remember, you’re a hero in this class, too.”

“So are you,” Damian told Jon as the early arrivals watched the super youths approach.

Jason and Mr. Donell were following right behind Jon and Damian. Mr. Donell nudged Jason, who sighed, “Apparently, yesterday’s class was too intense for some of you. There were several complaints about the way I taught you snowflakes. We’ll take it a bit easier today. Okay, get stretched out and warmed up.”

After a couple minutes of stretching, Jason called out, “Okay. Two laps, and take your time.”

The class thought that was a strange request, but jogged through two laps around the field before standing in front of the teachers again.

Once the class was reassembled, Jason said, “Today is going to be a little different than yesterday. Mr. Donell tells me that you were playing basketball last week. So, we will do that again today. Were you in teams?”

“No,” several students said.

Jason nodded and counted the students off into four groups of five. “Alright. How about a little five-on-five? We have two courts here, so ones against twos, threes against fours. While we go get the balls, split into your teams and go over your game plans.”

Damian met with his group, the fours, which consisted of a boy named Mike, and three girls, named Ana, Lacy, and Millie.

Mike smiled and said, “Alright! I get the athlete on my team. What position do you want to play, Damian?”

Damian looked at his teammates guiltily, “Sorry, but you shouldn’t expect too much out of me. I…don’t know how to Basketball.”

“Seriously,” Ana asked.

Damian shook his head, “I’ve never seen a Basketball match. I don’t know the rules, or the skills necessary.” Damian pointed to the court around them, “I didn’t even know this was considered a Basketball court.”

Millie sighed, “We’re screwed.”

“You can do everything you did yesterday, but you can’t play basketball,” Mike asked.

Damian shrugged, “I don’t play sports. I’ve never played sports.”

“Okay, I hope you all are ready,” Jason said, returning to the courts. “Let’s see some hustle out there.”

Damian looked at his team, “I learn quick. Give me an hour or so and I’ll have this down.”

“There’s only, like, half an hour left in class,” Lacy said.

“I’ll try not to suck too bad,” Damian said.

The last time Damian felt this useless was after his first knee replacement surgery, when he was trapped in a wheelchair with a new knee and a broken foot for weeks. He tried to follow along with the game, but he was the only one on either court who had absolutely no idea what he was doing.

Jon was vaguely concerned. He had never seen Damian look so uncoordinated.

Jason, on the other hand, was having the time of his life. He was quite enjoying watching a teen, who could keep up with Batman, fail to keep up with a middle school basketball game.

“Good work today, everyone,” Jason called out as the students headed for the locker room, “We’ll pick this up again tomorrow.”

Mike walked up to Damian and said, “You weren’t kidding about not knowing Basketball.”

“I told you,” Damian said as Mike walked away.

“Get going, Jones,” Jason said, walking by Damian, “Class is over. Go home.”

Damian had to bite his tongue hard to not shoot a scathing reply back at his disguised older brother.

After changing, Damian and Jon waited for the bus.

“Are you alright, Damian,” Jon asked softly to the abnormally quiet teen, “I’ve never seen you like that before.”

“I don’t do sports,” Damian grumbled, “Jason knows that.”

“He did look kinda happy,” Jon thought as they boarded the bus. “I don’t get it, though. How did you get through P.E. at your old school without learning some sports?”

“I didn’t,” Damian said.

“Huh,” Jon asked.

Damian leaned closer, “When I first started school, it was pretty soon after my first knee replacement. Dr. Thompkins wrote me a medical exemption. I didn’t have to take P.E. until my last year in high school. The school thought a P.E. class would settle me down. I signed up for Strength Training. We didn’t do sports in that class.”

“What are you going to do,” Jon asked, “Mr. Todd said we’re playing Basketball again tomorrow.”

“I guess I’ll look like an idiot again,” Damian said with a shrug.

The teen fell silent for several minutes, until Jon said, “I think I know that look. What are you planning?”

“Nothing,” Damian grumbled, “I can’t plan anything. All I can do is take it, for now. Todd is doing this on purpose, and Father put him in a position where that’s okay. It’s out of my hands…this week.”

“Uh-oh,” Jon said slowly as the boys got off the bus, “How bad are you going to hurt him next week?”

“I haven’t decided yet,” Damian said.

“Well, wait until you get home,” Jon said, “Mom won’t like it if you two fight at our place.”

Damian thought for a second, “I guess that’s fair.”

The boys arrived back at the apartment, and Jon pulled his phone from his pocket. Damian saw the device and said, “That reminds me. I need to call Father.”

“Why don’t you bring your phone to school,” Jon asked as he selected his mother’s speed dial contact, to let her know they were home.

“Because it’s my phone,” Damian said.

“So? I bring _my _phone.”

Damian shook his head, “No, you don’t get it. It’s _my_ phone. Damian Wayne’s, not Damian Jones’. I don’t have a cover identity phone.”

“Oh,” Jon said, “That makes sense. Hi, Mom.”

Damian picked up his phone and saw several missed calls and messages. _Tim was right. Father has been trying to call me. So has Robin. Crap, I didn’t tell her I was going undercover this week. That should be an interesting call._

Damian texted his Father, ‘Is now a good time?’

He got a reply back half a minute later, ‘In a meeting. Call you in ten.’

Damian nodded to himself, then texted Robin, ‘I’ll call you in an hour, Beautiful.’

Robin texted back, ‘Make it two or three. I’m still in school.’

Damian sighed and replied, ‘Right.’

While Jon continued to talk to his Mother, Damian changed out of his school uniform, grabbed his Lexpad, and flopped down on the couch to start reading his homework.

_It’s amazing how quickly I’ve gotten back into the routine of being a student, but this work is incredibly easy._

Damian’s phone rang on the couch, next to his head. Damian picked it up and answered it without looking at the screen. “Hello?”

“May I speak with Mr. Jones, please?”

Damian’s eyes widened and he checked the screen. _Why is Alfred asking for my cover identity?_

“Hello, Alfred,” Damian said cautiously, “What can I do for you?”

“I just wanted to check in on our exchange student,” the butler said with a smile, “Master Bruce might not be able to call you for a while.”

“He said ten minutes when I texted him,” Damian said, “Did something change in the last two minutes?”

“His meeting is scheduled until five,” Alfred said, “Perhaps he is scheduling a break?”

“I hope so,” Damian said, “I want to talk to him.”

“Well, if he calls, you can feel free to hang up on me,” Alfred said.

Damian took a breath, “How are things at home?”

“Very quiet, without the three of you here. Are you and Master Jonathan getting along?”

“We’re doing fine, Alfred,” Damian said with a smile, “I like being the older brother, but I miss having my own bathroom.”

“Are you behaving for Mr. and Mrs. Kent,” Alfred asked.

“Of course, Alfred,” Damian said, “Not so much for the school, but nowhere near as bad as I was when I actually went through it.”

Alfred was shaking his head, “Remember your Father’s instructions, young man. Do not draw unnecessary attention to yourself.”

Damian smiled, “That’s not really my style anymore, but I’m trying.”

“That is all I can ask, young man,” Alfred said.

“I’ll make it,” Damian said, “Jason might not, though. He seems to be enjoying ordering me around in a situation where I can’t give him the response he so richly deserves.”

Alfred sighed, “I shall restock the first aid kits before the weekend, then.”

“Not a bad idea, Alfred,” Damian said with a smirk.

“Will I be seeing you Friday or Saturday,” Alfred asked.

“I’m…not sure yet,” Damian said.

Alfred nodded, “I see. Enjoy your time with your friend, and complete your homework. Remember, you are a student this week.”

“Thank you, Alfred,” Damian said, thanking the butler for more than the reminder, “I’ll see you soon.”

_I think he misses me,_ Damian thought as he hung up his phone, _I think I miss him, too._

Damian picked up his Lexpad again and started his English homework. It was desperately easy for the teen, and he was able to finish the assignment before his next call came in.

“Hello, Father.”

“Hey, Kiddo. You don’t sound as bad as Clark led me to believe.”

Damian rolled his eyes, “It’s gotten better throughout the day.”

“Good,” Bruce said, “I didn’t get any calls from the school today. Thank you for that. How’s it going?”

“It’s a very ingenious item, Father. I’d like to know how Luthor thought it up.”

“How are you feeling,” Bruce asked.

Damian thought for a second, “I have a slight headache. I’ll need more time with the device to know whether it’s from the Lexpad, or just from being back in school.”

Bruce nodded, “Okay, Pal. Tim says you’re doing great in your cover. He hacked the school security cameras.”

Damian’s eyes widened, “Are you watching me in class, Father?”

“Would you be surprised if I said yes?”

Damian let out a breath, “Not really, I guess.”

“I watched that lunch incident from yesterday,” Bruce said, “Thank you for not doing anything that would require a Parent-Teacher conference.”

Damian’s eyes narrowed as a thought occurred to him, “While you’re reviewing recorded footage, why don’t you take a look at yesterday’s gym class. Sixth period. See how Todd is taking advantage of his position.”

“I talked to him about that,” Bruce said, “What did he have you do today?”

“We played Basketball,” Damian said.

“Really?”

Damian blushed, “Well, _the class_ played Basketball. I flailed around like an idiot. I don’t do sports.”

Bruce smiled, “What’s your mission update?”

Damian took a breath, “Tim’s coming over tonight to take a closer look at the Lexpad. I’ll learn more from him later.”

“Okay,” Bruce said, “It’s time to start your exit strategy. Start with your Homeroom teacher tomorrow morning. How hard will this be for you?”

“Probably harder than I originally anticipated,” Damian grumbled.

“You’re making friends,” Bruce pointed out.

“Being around Jon makes that easier than it used to be,” Damian said.

Bruce gave a small smile, “I should be proud of you for that, but it’s just going to make leaving there harder.”

“I know, Father,” Damian said softly.

“Did you want to stay longer,” Bruce asked.

Damian could hear the smile in his Father’s voice, “With Jon and the Kent’s, maybe. Not at school, though. Jon did ask if I could finish out the school year here.”

“That’s probably not a good idea,” Bruce said.

“That’s what I said,” Damian said, “College is bad enough. Middle School is worse. I don’t know how Jon does this every day. He’s smarter than this.”

“Are you not finding your work challenging,” Bruce taunted.

Damian rolled his eyes, “This is all stuff that Mother taught me ten years ago. I finish my homework before the teachers assign it.”

“You only have to put up with it for three more days.”

“Okay, Father,” Damian sighed.

“Hang in there, Kiddo. Oh, good call about your phone. I didn’t think of getting you a cover phone.”

“It’s okay. It just makes it easier to make a clean break at the end of the week.”

“Keep up the good work, Pal,” Bruce said, “Love you. Miss you.”

“I miss you, too, Dad,” Damian said softly before hanging up his phone.

Damian dropped his phone, then closed his eyes and sighed, “How much of that did you hear?”

Jon froze as he was caught. He didn’t know that Damian was aware of the youth standing behind the couch.

Jon swallowed nervously before saying, “Um, just from the part when you said ‘Hello, Father’.”

_Right, so all of it. Why am I not upset about that?_ “Okay,” Damian said.

“Wait, you’re not mad at me for eavesdropping?”

Damian shrugged, “I guess not. Why, did you _want_ me to be mad at you?”

“Well, no,” Jon said, “but…you’re a really private person.”

Damian turned to look at Jon, “There’s nothing really to be private about here. Except for the whole ‘undercover identity’ thing, though. I’m trying to change. I would think my brother would be supportive of that.”

Jon smiled broadly, “I can do that. So, what did your Dad say?”

Damian scooted over on the couch, and Jon sat down next to him, “He said no to finishing out the school year here.”

Jon sighed, “Too bad. That could have been cool.”

“He also said it’s time to start my exit strategy. You are going to have a part to play in that, and it’s important you get it all down. We’ll go over it after you finish your homework.”

“Aren’t you going to do your homework,” Jon asked.

Damian smiled, “I’ll be done first, so we’ll continue after you’re done.”

“What makes you think you’ll be done first,” Jon asked with a smile.

“I got started while you were talking to your Mother,” Damian said, “I’m done with English, and I did the Math homework in class. I’m two subjects ahead of you.”

“Oh,” Jon said, then popped up off the couch, “Well, let’s get started.”

Jon ran to his room and retrieved his Lexpad, then returned to the couch, where both boys sat hunched over their tablets.

That is where Lois found the boys almost two hours later, when she walked into the apartment. She smiled as she was ignored by the youths. Damian was pointing to something on Jon’s screen, and the younger boy nodded.

“That better be homework that has you two so enthralled,” Lois said loudly.

Jon’s head popped up with a smile, “Hi, Mom. It is. Damian was just helping me with something for Science.”

Lois walked over to the boys, “You don’t usually need help with Science.”

Jon shook his head, “No. I missed something in the reading. Damian pointed it out for me.”

Lois nudged Damian’s foot with her own, “And how is _your_ homework coming, young man?”

“I finished it a while ago,” Damian said. “Has anyone told you that you do a good impression of Alfred?”

Lois’ smile grew, “Nope. Never been told that before.”

“Excuse me,” Damian said as he got up and walked to the bathroom.

“I don’t know if I should be offended or flattered by that comment,” Lois said to Jon.

Jon looked up and said, “Flattered. Alfred is, like, one of Damian’s most favorite people ever.”

Lois stared at the hallway where Damian disappeared for a second before asking, “How much more homework do you have?”

Jon tapped a couple spots on his screen before looking up with a smile, “All done.”

“I probably don’t have to check it over today,” Lois asked with a smile.

Jon shook his head, “No. It was easy today. You can, if you want, though.”

Lois shook her head, “As long as it’s done. Hey, your Dad will be home soon, and we’re going to do game night tonight. Your Dad and I have a work event on Thursday. Pick out a game, okay?”

“Okay, Mom. Damian and I will…”

Jon trailed off as the phone began to ring on the couch next to him. Jon looked down to see Damian’s phone ringing.

“Uh-oh,” Jon said, picking up the phone and flying down the hall.

Lois called out after him, “No flying in the house. You know the rules.”

Jon knocked on the bathroom door, and Damian called out, “I’ll be out in a minute.”

“Your phone is ringing,” Jon said, “It’s Robin.”

“Answer it,” Damian said.

“…But, it’s your girlfriend.”

“So? Talk to her. I’ll be out in a minute.”

Jon answered the phone and walked to his room. Robin was already talking when Jon pressed the phone to his ear.

“It isn’t like you to make me wait until the last ring, Lover.”

Jon instantly blushed, “Oh, um…”

“That’s okay, Lover,” Robin said seductively, “I’ll just make you wait the next time we…”

Jon’s series of noises expressing his discomfort at the situation grew louder. Robin trailed off in confusion, then asked, “Are you still there?”

“Um, hi,” Jon said in a small voice.

“Who is this,” Robin asked warily.

“Um, hi, Robin. It’s…it’s Jon.”

Robin thought for a second. _I know that name._ “Jon? As in, Damian’s friend, Jon?”

“Y-yeah.”

“Why do you have Damian’s phone,” Robin asked.

“He told me to answer it,” Jon said.

“Why did he do that?”

“Because he’s in the bathroom.”

Robin laughed and nodded, “Oh. Okay. He didn’t tell me you were coming over when he texted me earlier.”

“I’m not over at his house,” Jon said, “He’s over at mine.”

“He didn’t tell me that, either,” Robin said, then took a breath, “Well, Jon. Damian obviously wanted us to talk, or he wouldn’t have had you answer his phone. Tell me about yourself.”

Jon’s eyes widened at being put on the spot, “What is there to tell? I mean, what do you already know? What do you want to know?”

Robin smiled, “I already know you’re a part of his group, and that you two have agreed to be brothers. I want to know the stuff he hasn’t told me.”

“He talks about me,” Jon asked.

“Uh-huh.”

“Wow,” Jon gasped. “Well, I turned twelve in February. I’m in the seventh grade. Um, I’m taller than Damian.”

“So am I,” Robin said with a smile, “Most people are.”

“Does he let you make fun of his height like that,” Jon asked.

“He doesn’t have any height to make fun of,” Robin said, eliciting a chuckle from Jon. “He probably would let me, but I don’t do it. He let’s me get away with a lot, because he loves me.”

“Cool,” Jon said.

“Do you have a girlfriend, Jon,” Robin asked.

Jon blushed again, “I’m too young for that. I’m only twelve.”

“Damian and I met when he was twelve,” Robin said.

Jon did some quick math in his head, “You two have been dating for three years?”

“Almost,” Robin said.

“You’re older than Damian, right,” Jon asked.

“I’m sixteen,” Robin said.

“How did you two meet,” Jon asked, “I can’t see Damian flirting with people.”

Robin giggled, “No, that really wouldn’t be his style. However, he can be very charming, when he wants to. Damian is the type who can flirt without knowing he’s doing it. We met at a party.”

“I can’t see Damian at a party, either.”

“It wasn’t, like, a _party _party. It was one of his Dad’s Society Events.”

Jon thought for a second, “You mean, one of those parties for rich people to hang around with other rich people? Robin, are you rich, too?”

Robin shrugged, “My Dad owns an oil company. I guess we can be considered rich. We don’t really think of ourselves that way, though.”

“Wow,” Jon said again.

“What do your parents do, Jon,” Robin asked, “Other than, you know, that stuff we can’t talk about over the phone.”

“They’re newspaper reporters,” Jon said, “Mom’s more of a book writer than a reporter now, though. She got a couple books published.”

“What’s her name,” Robin asked interestedly, “Maybe I’ve read her works.”

“Lois Lane,” Jon said.

Robin gasped, “My Mom just bought her last book. I didn’t know she was your Mom. I’ll have to read it when Mom finishes it.”

“Mom will like hearing that,” Jon said.

The line fell silent for a long second, then Robin asked, “So, what is Damian doing over there? Are you two just hanging out?”

“Um, maybe he better tell you that,” Jon said nervously.

“Why do you sound like that,” Robin asked suspiciously, “What did he do? His Dad didn’t kick him out, did he? I thought they were getting along really well right now.”

Jon shook his head, “No! Nothing like that. He’s just better at explaining these things.”

“That sounds like my cue.”

Jon looked up to see Damian leaning against the door frame. Jon sighed and held out the phone, “Yes, please.”

Damian took the phone with a smile and flopped down on Jon’s bed, “Hey, Beautiful.”

“What did you do,” Robin asked, “Why did he get all nervous when I asked why you were there?”

“Because Jon’s never had to explain business arrangements over a civilian line to someone who isn’t involved before.”

_Business arrangements?_ “So, you’re not in trouble at home,” Robin asked carefully.

“Of course not,” Damian said easily, “I just got picked to complete some work for Father’s group. It’s a good thing, really.”

_His Father’s Group? Does he mean Wayne Enterprises or the Justice League? He must mean the Justice League. He wouldn’t have felt the need to not say Wayne Enterprises over the phone._

“Why did you get picked for this job?”

Damian folded an arm behind his head before saying, “I was available, for one. I’m almost the right size and close to the required age. I’m able to go undercover without giving away my identity. And, I get to spend some time with my friend.”

“Isn’t your friend supposed to be in school,” Robin asked.

“Yeah,” Damian said.

“Are you…did you go back to school?”

“Way back,” Damian said, smiling.

A smile grew on Robin’s face, “How far back?”

“For this week, I’m just your average seventh grade student.”

Damian rolled his eyes hard when both Jon and Robin started laughing at the statement. “I’m trying, okay.”

Jon whispered, “Put it on speaker.”

Damian did, and Jon said, “He _is _trying, but he definitely doesn’t act like a seventh grader.”

“He didn’t act like a seventh grader when he was a seventh grader,” Robin said.

“Why am I not surprised,” Jon asked rhetorically.

“I was never a seventh grader,” Damian said. “I spent two days in the seventh grade when I was ten before I got moved up.”

“How is the secret mission going,” Robin asked.

“There will be some people sad to see him go at the end of the week,” Jon said.

“You think so,” Damian asked, “Besides you, I mean.”

“Josh and Suzy will,” Jon said.

“Who is Suzy,” Robin asked.

Damian hid his eyeroll at the hint of jealousy in Robin’s voice, “Just a girl in a couple of our classes.”

“Damian totally didn’t flirt with her at lunch today,” Jon said.

Damian glared at Jon, “Now why would you say that?”

“Because you didn’t flirt with her,” Jon said, confused.

“Why would you need to point that out,” Robin asked pointedly.

Damian sighed, “Because she was flirting with me. I stood up to a bully yesterday at lunch. Apparently, I impressed some people. She thought she would try to see if I was interested.”

“Are you,” Robin demanded.

“You know I’m not,” Damian said.

“Why aren’t you,” Robin asked.

Damian gave a silent sigh while glaring at Jon, “Besides the fact that she’s three years younger than me, and I like older women, I already have the best girl in the world. Anyway, love and missions should never mix. I’m living proof of that.”

Jon was confused by the statement, but Robin sounded subdued. “You know I don’t like it when you talk like that. Your example of why it shouldn’t happen is my reason why it should. Now, take me off speakerphone.”

Damian did, then said, “You can trust me, Beautiful.”

Robin spoke softly when she asked, “Is this a…a dangerous mission?”

Damian scoffed, “Hardly. I’m spending a week in a middle school, evaluating a piece of technology. All I have to do is pretend to be a student. I know, not my best thing, but there is no danger here.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were going to be doing this,” Robin asked.

“The only uniform I’m wearing this week is the school uniform for Hackman Middle School. I’m only going to be out of contact during school hours. I guess I just didn’t think about it. I’ll tell you all the details the next time I see you.”

“Any idea when that will be,” Robin asked.

Damian thought for a second, “Um, I think your birthday. Father already bought my ticket, and I’m working on your present. I think you’ll like it.”

“It’s still March,” Robin said, “Why are you starting two months early?”

“Because this one is going to be big,” Damian said slyly.

“You say that every year,” Robin said.

“And I mean it every year,” Damian said, “I’m only allowed to see you a handful of days a year, Beautiful. I have to make them count. They need to be something that’s going to be memorable, and hold us over until the next time we can see each other.”

Robin sighed happily, “God, you spoil me. Don’t ignore your guest, though. Call me tomorrow.”

“I’m his guest, actually,” Damian said.

“Well, tell him I said it was nice talking to him, and thank him for keeping me company while I waited for you.”

Damian glanced at Jon, who was looking like he was trying not to listen in on the conversation. “He’s good at that. You know, I don’t know when it will happen, but I actually want you two to meet.”

Jon’s head whipped around to look at Damian, with a shocked look on his face.

“Maybe you should allow your Dad to throw you a birthday party this year,” Robin said, “Sixteen is a big one.”

“I’ll think about it,” Damian said. The idea didn’t sound as repulsive to Damian as it usually would.

“Text me later,” Robin said, “I’ve got some homework to do. Don’t _you_ have some homework, too?”

Damian rolled his eyes at the playful tone, “I did mine already. Our school ended a couple hours ago.”

“Talk to you later, Lover.”

“Bye, Beautiful.”

Damian ended the call and put his phone down with a soft smile on his face.

“You actually want us to meet,” Jon asked in a small voice.

“Why not,” Damian said, “You two were able to hold a conversation over the phone. In person should be easier.”

“Can I see her picture again,” Jon asked.

Damian scrolled through his phone, looking for a picture tame enough to show to the younger boy. He finally found one when Lois walked into the bedroom.

“Everything alright in here?”

“Yeah, Mom,” Jon said.

“What are you looking at,” she asked.

Damian turned his phone so Lois could see the screen and said, “My girlfriend, Robin.”

Lois smiled at the picture, “Pretty girl. I didn’t think you would go for blondes.”

Damian shrugged, “I go for personality. The fact that she’s amazingly beautiful is just a bonus.”

“You said her name is Robin,” Lois asked with a crafty smile.

Damian rolled his eyes, “Yes. And yes, she knows about Robin. We’re approaching out third anniversary; she knows everything there is to know about me.”

“Three years? That’s impressive, at your age. How old is she?”

“She’ll be seventeen in May,” Damian said with a smile, “I’ll get to see her for her birthday. I can’t wait.”

Lois looked confused, “What does that mean?”

“Robin and her family live in Alaska,” Damian said, “They moved there after Robin and her sister were kidnapped by the Penguin and held hostage.”

Lois shook her head, “You know, if anyone else had said that, I would think they were making things up. Come on, Tim is here.”

The boys followed Lois into the living room, and found Tim talking to Clark. Tim smiled at the boys and said, “There are my two best students. Did you talk to Bruce yet?”

Damian nodded, “I talked to him already.”

“Good,” Tim said, pointing at the Lexpads the boys left on the couch, “Which one is yours?”

Damian picked one up, then turned it on to make sure this one was actually his before handing it to Tim. “This one. I’m done with my homework, so I don’t need it until school tomorrow.”

Tim took the device to the kitchen table and set a bag of tools on the surface. “I’ll get it back together before then.”

“Did you pick a game, Jon,” Clark asked, hugging his son.

“I thought we’d play Trouble,” Jon said.

Tim smiled, “A concept Damian should be familiar with.”

Damian shook his head, then said, “I thought your game night was Thursdays?”

“Lois and I have to work Thursday night this week,” Clark said, “I assume you two will be okay on your own?”

“We’ll be fine,” Jon said, nudging Damian.

“We can always go home for dinner on Thursday, I guess,” Damian said.

Jon gasped, “Can we, Mom?”

Lois and Clark looked at each other, and Clark said, “I think I’d rather have you two there than alone here. Just in case.”

“We’ll be back before bedtime,” Jon said.

“Sounds like a plan,” Lois said before turning to Tim, “Tim, get that stuff off the table. It’s dinner time.”

**A/N: So, what do you think so far? I know I said this story would come in at five chapters, but I thought of an interesting little epilogue while writing this chapter. I don’t know if I will use it yet, because it will completely change the direction of my whole Timeline, but it’s in the back of my mind. If you see a sixth chapter show up for the story, then you can expect some interesting stuff down the road.**

**I’d love to hear what you think about what I’ve put out so far.**

**Thanks for playing along.**


	3. Wednesday

School Days

Chapter 3

Wednesday…

“Are you alright, Damian?”

Damian looked up at the face of Mr. Kirby, his temporary homeroom teacher, and shook his head.

Mr. Kirby led the teen a couple steps away from the classroom door and asked, “Want to talk about it?”

Damian heaved a massive sigh and spoke quietly, “My Father talked to me last night, about his job.”

“Uh-oh,” Mr. Kirby said, “Is this good news, or bad?”

Damian thought for a second, “Probably both. He works for the State Department. That’s why we’ve lived all over the world. Um, this is all supposed to be secret, by the way. Anyway, he’s up for a promotion.”

“That sounds like good news,” Mr. Kirby said, trying to cheer up his student.

Damian nodded, “It is, but his next level is Station Chief. That means he would be put in charge of a consulate, or embassy, or something.”

“That means job security, right?”

Damian looked down and wiped at his nose, “It means we’ll have to move again.”

Mr. Kirby took a surprised breath, “But you just got here.”

“I just got to the school,” Damian corrected, “We’ve been in Metropolis for almost two months. We always knew this wouldn’t be permanent, but…”

“But what,” Mr. Kirby asked after Damian trailed off sadly.

Damian sighed, “Dad promised me we’d be here for a while. I like it here. I don’t want to leave again.”

“Maybe he’ll get a local posting,” Mr. Kirby said.

Damian shook his head sadly, “Dad’s a Middle East specialist. It’ll be over there, I know it.”

“Maybe he’ll be given long enough for you to finish out the school year before you have to leave.”

Damian snorted, “I doubt it. They don’t have the meetings Dad told me he’s having over the next few days unless an assignment is available. He told me not to make any plans for the weekend. You know, I’ve never finished a school year in the same school I started the year.”

“When will you know,” Mr. Kirby asked.

Damian forced a quake into his jaw, “He finds out today if he got the promotion. It could be a couple days before he gets his orders for a new post.”

“And once he gets his orders?”

“With all of his other new assignments, he’s been expected to show up within seventy-two hours. There’s no reason to think this one will be any different.”

“Maybe it will be a short assignment, and you’ll be able to come back here?”

Damian shook his head sadly, “No. Once you make Station Chief, your next post is pretty much your last. Dad’ll be there for the rest of his career. This is what he’s been working for.”

Damian could tell that Mr. Kirby wanted to comfort him, but the present climate in the school system prevented him from touching the teen.

“Damian, I’m sorry to hear that. If there’s anything I can do for you, please let me know. And please, keep me informed of what’s going on.”

Damian nodded, “I will. Thank you. Oh, please don’t tell anyone about this. I’ll…I’ll let them know.”

“Okay, Damian,” Mr. Kirby said, “Are you going to be able to concentrate in class?”

Damian took a deep breath, “I’ll be okay. This isn’t the first time I’ve gotten this news. It’s not easy to get, though.”

“Hang in there, Damian,” Mr. Kirby said, “You’ll make it through. Come on, let’s get to class.”

Damian and the teacher walked into the classroom. Damian took his seat, thinking _you’re a nice guy, Mr. Kirby. I hate lying to you like that. You bought it, though, so I must have sold it well enough. I just hope he doesn’t call Father after class to verify my story. Father said he would be ready for calls, though._

Jon looked at his friend with concern written on his face, “What happened? You were fine when you went to the bathroom.”

Damian leaned closer and whispered, “I started my extraction plan. We talked about this last night. I’ll go over it again with you later. I just need to look depressed for now.”

Jon nodded and turned to pay attention to the class.

Damian played his role. He occasionally looked up at the teacher or the board, but for the most part, he slouched at his desk and stared at his hands. Mr. Kirby kept an eye on the sullen teen, making sure not to call on him to answer questions when he could tell Damian had other things on his mind.

As the class ended, and Damian packed up his bag and walked out of the room, Mr. Kirby picked up his phone and dialed a number. _I wonder who he’s calling. It didn’t look long enough to be an external call. Maybe he’s calling the office to see if they have more information on my departure._

“How long do you have to put on this act for,” Jon asked, nudging Damian.

Damian sighed and let his face return to his normal look, “That was all for Mr. Kirby. I don’t have to be nearly as depressed in our other classes.”

“Mr. Jones.”

Damian and Jon stopped as Mrs. March stepped into the hallway.

“Hello, Mrs. March,” Damian said.

“Vice Principal’s office, if you please, Mr. Jones,” the math teacher said, “Mr. Connor just called; he wants to see you.”

Damian looked confused, and slightly nervous, “Did I do something wrong?”

“He didn’t say,” Mrs. March said, “He just said he wants to see you.”

Damian shrugged and walked towards the office.

“You wanted to see me, sir,” Damian asked, knocking on the open door.

“Come in, Damian,” Mr. Connor, the school’s Vice Principal said, closing the door behind the teen, “I got a call from Mr. Kirby. He’s pretty concerned about you.”

Damian sighed, “I asked him not to tell anyone. Dad was going to call when he knows more.”

“Why don’t we see if he knows more,” Mr. Connor said, picking up the phone and dialing a number from a file on his computer screen.

Damian’s eyes widened, “Dad said he has meetings all day today. He probably won’t be able to answer.”

The Vice Principal didn’t hang up, despite Damian’s warning. He called a number that Bruce had set up specifically for this mission.

“This is Bruce Jones.”

_That sounds very wrong,_ Damian thought as his Father’s voice came through the speakerphone.

“Mr. Jones, this is Mr. Connor, Vice Principal of Hackman Middle School. I have Damian in my office.”

Bruce sighed heavily, “Is he in trouble? What did he do?”

Damian had to hide his smirk from the Vice Principal. “No, Mr. Jones, it’s not…”

“Then, what’s the problem,” Bruce interrupted, “I’m sorry to be so abrupt, but I have two minutes to get to my next meeting.”

“Damian told his homeroom teacher of the possibility of you two moving soon. Is there anything more you can tell us?”

“No, there isn’t,” Bruce said, “Look, Damian knows everything I do at this point. I’m stepping into a meeting right now to get more information, but I’ll be in this meeting for most of the day. I won’t be available to talk today. I will be lucky to get home tonight before midnight. I’ll call the school when I know more. I have to go.”

Bruce hung up the phone, and Damian forced the smirk off of his face and resumed his mildly depressed look.

Mr. Connor turned to Damian and asked, “Is he always like that?”

Damian shook his head, looking at the desk in front of him, instead of the man, “Only when he gets new orders. It’s hard on both of us, but that’s government work for you. That’s what Dad always says.”

“So, what’s really going on,” Mr. Connor asked, “Mr. Kirby wasn’t very specific.”

Damian took a breath, “Dad works for the State Department. He was notified yesterday that he’s up for a promotion to Station Chief. He’s been working for that for years. I think the meeting he’s in now is telling him if he got the promotion, and what he will be doing at his new job. If he gets the promotion, he’s also going to get a new assignment. He…We could be sent anywhere in the world, but he’s a Middle East specialist. I’m guessing that we’ll be going back there.”

“You seem to be taking this well,” Mr. Connor said.

Damian shrugged, and faked a small sniff. He said in a weaker voice, “I’m used to it. I guess I overreacted this morning. I…I don’t want to leave, but I don’t really have a choice.”

“Can’t you and your mother stay here for the rest of the school year, and move during the summer?”

Damian shook his head, looking down at his lap, “Mom died five years ago. It’s just me and Dad now. That’s why he’s worked so hard to get a Station Chief position. Once he has one, we can actually settle down somewhere, and we won’t have to move again for a long time.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know about your mother,” Mr. Connor said.

“I don’t like talking about it,” Damian said.

“When do you think you’ll know more?”

“Hopefully tonight, if I even see Dad tonight,” Damian said, “If he doesn’t get his new orders today, I might at least be able to finish out the week here.”

Mr. Connor stood as the bell rang, ending second period, “We’ll be sad to see you go, Damian. Please, keep in touch, if you can. Will you be okay in the rest of your classes?”

Damian stood and put on a fake, brave face, “I’ll be okay. Thanks, Mr. Connor.”

Damian left the office and heaved a sigh of relief. _They’re buying it. This is easier than Father and I thought it would be._

Damian walked into the computer lab to find Jon slouching in front of his computer, staring blankly at the screen. Damian was confused, and a bit concerned, about Jon’s attitude.

“What’s wrong, Jon,” Damian asked softly, “Did something happen in Math class?”

Jon shook his head, not looking up at Damian, “No, class was fine.”

“Then, what’s wrong,” Damian asked.

Jon sighed, “I just realized, I’m losing my best friend.”

Damian was surprised as he looked around the empty computer lab, “Who?”

“You, Damian.”

Damian smiled, “You’re not losing me. Damian Jones doesn’t exist, remember? This is a mission.”

“I know,” Jon said, “You don’t see it, since we’ve spent all of our time together since you got here, but I don’t really have a lot of friends here, or any friends here.”

“What about Josh and Suzy,” Damian asked.

“They’re school friends,” Jon said, shaking his head, “I talk to them here, but we don’t see each other outside of school.”

“Why not,” Damian asked, “You’re allowed to make friends, Jon. Be yourself. It’s impossible to not like Jon Kent.”

Jon looked up, “This has been the best couple days I’ve ever had at this school. I don’t want that to end.”

Damian gave a small smile, “This had been my best school experience, too. Remember, though, your friend might be leaving, but you always have access to your brother.”

“It won’t be the same, though,” Jon said, looking down again.

Damian shook his head, “Nope, it won’t. I’ll actually be able to get some sleep, without you snoring two feet away from my head.”

Jon looked up and started to sprout a smile, knowing Damian was trying to cheer him up. “You aren’t the quietest sleeper either, you know. You toss and turn a lot.”

Damian shrugged, “Nightmares.”

“Every night,” Jon asked in disbelief.

Damian glanced down and took a deep breath, “Yeah.”

“Whoa,” Jon said, “Are they about…what happened in January?”

“Some of them. I told you about my past. There’s plenty there for a lifetime of nightmares.”

“I know, but still…”

Damian took another breath, “At least I don’t wake up screaming anymore. That’s an improvement.”

“What’s going to happen next week,” Jon asked after a moment of silence.

“You’re going to get some questions about where I went, which you will answer with our cover story, and pretty soon, Damian Jones will be a mostly forgotten memory. We’ll go back to how we were, and you know who will use whatever data we’re gathering for…whatever they need it for.”

The door opened and the two teachers entered the computer lab. Mr. Park smiled at the boys, “You know this is a break period, right boys? You’re always the first ones in the room.”

Damian shrugged, “I guess we don’t like being late.”

The teacher nodded at Tim and asked, “We’re you ever like that as a student?”

Damian was having a hard time not reacting to the question as Tim smirked, “Actually, I was. I finished high school in two years, finished a Bachelor’s in two years, and a Master’s in three. I took some time off during the Master’s program to travel.”

Mr. Park stared at Tim for a second before saying, “Right. I guess I’m the underachiever here.”

“I don’t think I can finish school that fast,” Jon said.

Tim smirked at Damian, unseen by the other teacher, “What about you, Mr. Jones? Think you can do it?”

Damian just barely hid his eyeroll, “Seven years from high school to a Master’s degree? No, I probably can’t do that, either.”

Damian could hear Tim thinking _damn right you can’t._

Tim sat down at the teacher’s desk to prepare his lesson for the day, and Jon leaned next to Damian’s ear to whisper, “How long did school take you?”

Damian whispered back, “Three years for high school. I could have done it faster, but I didn’t know that was an option. I’ve already done two years of college, and will have to do at least one, if not two more. I don’t know if I’m going to go for anything beyond a Bachelor’s degree.”

Jon smiled, “So, you’re not going to beat Tim’s record?”

Damian glanced at Tim, then back at Jon, “It’s not a competition, Jon.”

Jon’s eyes widened, “Did you really just say that? Didn’t you tell us that _everything_ is a competition? Why isn’t it a competition?”

“Because I can’t win,” Damian said softly, “There’s no use competing against a record I already can’t break.”

The bell rang, and Tim stood up to start class. “Happy Wednesday, everyone. I’ve forwarded today’s work to your Lexpads. Go ahead and take those out and get started. If you have any questions, just ask.”

_Lunch…_

“Damian? Damian?”

Damian seemed to snap out of a trance at the lunch lady’s gentle call. “Yes?”

“What’ll you have, dear?”

Damian looked at today’s lunch selections and felt his stomach start churning. Closing his eyes, Damian said, “Um, just a coke, please. My stomach isn’t feeling too good.”

Damian took his drink and walked away from the line. Concerned, Jon bought a couple extra items, in case Damian changed his mind.

“Are you okay,” Jon asked in a concerned tone as the boys sat at a lunch table. Damian took off his glasses, rubbed his eyes for a second, then laid his head on his arms on the table.

“No,” he murmured.

“What happened,” Jon asked, “You were fine in class.”

“I think it’s the Lexpad,” Damian said softly.

Jon nodded, “That’s not too surprising. Did you look at anything else during Science class last period?”

Knowing his time for his mission was growing short, Damian took the last class period to focus on one aspect of his mission. Minor health concerns, like headaches, eyestrain, and nausea, had been reported in increasing numbers in schools using the Lexpad. The League wanted to see if the Lexpads were truly responsible, or if there was another, unknown cause. In Damian’s eyes, it was now looking like the pads were truly the cause.

Jon patted Damian’s back, “Taking one for the team?”

Damian gave a small burp as his stomach tried to rebel against him, “Looks that way. Can I borrow your phone?”

“Sure,” Jon said softly, handing over the device as he started in on his lunch.

Damian unlocked the phone, and Jon’s jaw dropped, “How did you know my unlock sequence?”

Damian gave a small smirk, “The smudge pattern on your screen. Plus, I saw you do it last night.”

Damian quickly searched through Jon’s contacts, until he found and selected the one he needed.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in class, Jonny Boy?”

Damian sent a small smirk at Jon before he spoke softly, “It’s me, Dick.”

Damian could hear Dick’s smile through the phone. “I haven’t heard your regular voice in years, Little Brother. I miss it. It sounds nice. Why don’t you use it anymore?”

Damian blushed a bit. Dick was one of the few people in the world who knew that Damian Wayne’s voice was nothing more than an improvised fakery that the teen had cultivated and made his own over the years. The tone Damian usually used, which had now become his natural tone, was something he invented to approximate what he thought his Father must have sounded like as a boy. There was a time, however, when Damian was still trying to perfect his adopted tone, that he would slip between the two voices. Dick, Bruce, and Talia were the only ones who regularly conversed with the younger Damian before he had a more secure grasp on his voice. Damian supposed Alfred could be added to that list, but there were many lists that the butler could be added to. This one wouldn’t surprise the teen in the least.

Damian held his sigh, “Because my normal voice isn’t my normal voice anymore. Let’s just say it’s been harder than I thought it would be to return to this voice. Sad to say, I’ve adopted my accent.”

Dick smiled, “So, did you just miss me, or is something going on?”

“Before I left, you said you felt left out for not having a part in my mission,” Damian said, “I have something for you to do.”

“Aww, thanks, Little D. Look at you, looking out for my feelings. What can I do for you?”

Damian glanced around the lunch tables, to make sure no one was listening to his lowered voice. “Go upstairs and talk to Father. Tell him our suspicions about the health issues might be accurate.”

“What’s going on,” Dick asked seriously.

“I feel like shit,” Damian mumbled, “I was fine this morning, then spent the entire last period staring at nothing but the Lexpad. Now, I have a massive headache and I’m not exactly sure if I’m going to throw up or not. After you talk to Father, call Tim and tell him to come over tonight to take another look at the Lexpad.”

“Why don’t you talk to Tim,” Dick asked, “He’s there with you.”

“I already had his class,” Damian said softly, “I can’t exactly ask to have a private conversation with someone who is pretending to be a teacher. Especially when neither of us are supposed to be here.”

“Why are you calling me, instead of Bruce,” Dick asked.

“Because you are a saved contact in Jon’s phone, and Father isn’t,” Damian said, “I’m trying to keep normal patterns here. A young boy from Metropolis has no normally explainable or acceptable reason to have the personal cell phone number of the CEO of Wayne Enterprises.”

Dick’s smile grew, “Okay, I’ll handle it, Little D. Try to feel better.”

“Oh, one more thing,” Damian said, stopping Dick from hanging up.

“What’s up?”

“Do _not_ inform Jason that I’m sick,” Damian said as forcefully as he could, “He’d like nothing more than to find a way to make me throw up in class.”

Dick considered the implication, “Yes, he would. He won’t hear anything about it from me.”

“Thanks, Dick,” Damian said before hanging up the phone and handing it back to Jon.

Damian took a sip of his soda before putting his head down again.

“Hey, D? Um, whenever I’m not feeling good, Mom gives me crackers to help settle my stomach.”

“Mm-hm,” Damian said, not really paying attention.

Jon slid a packet of crackers across the table, until they touched Damian’s arm. Damian glanced at the crackers, then up at Jon.

Jon looked down slightly, to hide a blush, “If they’ll help, you can have them. I…I got them for you.”

Damian gave a small nod and opened the packet. He really didn’t feel like eating, but he had learned over the years to show appreciation for the small gestures.

Damian took a cracker out of the packet and said, “Thank you, Jon. That was very nice of you.”

Damian slowly chewed on the cracker, determined to try to be a good friend, as Jon asked, “What are you going to do about P.E.?”

“Mind over matter,” Damian said, “I’ll force my way through it, because, if I don’t, Jason will think I’m faking it to get out of playing Basketball. I’ve done a lot more than what Jason will have us do while being a lot sicker than this.”

Jon thought about it for a second, “Yeah, he would think that.”

“Did the pad ever make you sick,” Damian said, taking a nibble out of a second cracker.

Jon shook his head, “I don’t really get sick. Dad’s influence, I guess. I get the occasional upset stomach, but I’ve never had a cold.”

Damian sent a soft glare at Jon, “Sometimes, I hate you, Jon. That’s just not fair. Don’t worry, I’ll be okay.”

The bell rang, ending lunch, and Damian put his glasses back on, “I’m surprised that Josh and Suzy didn’t stop by.”

Jon nodded at the approaching boy as the pair walked to their History class. “Hey, Josh. We were wondering where you were.”

“Hey,” Josh said, “Sorry. I had lunch detention today for forgetting my Science homework. I did the reading, but forgot to do the assignment.”

“That’s okay,” Damian said, “At least you took care of it.”

“Yeah,” Josh said, “but I’m hungry. It’s a good thing Mr. Phipps lets us eat in class.”

“What happened to Suzy,” Jon asked, “We didn’t see her at lunch, either.”

“I saw her with some of her friends when I was walking over,” Josh switched to a falsetto voice, trying to imitate Suzy, “Oh, I can’t do that. I get all nervous around them. They’re so cute, though. They’re always together; do you think they’re a couple?”

Damian cringed at the last sentence. “She was talking about us, wasn’t she?”

Josh smiled, “That’s what it sounded like. So, are you two a couple?”

Damian rolled his eyes, “Of course not. Jon’s just a good friend. Before this week, I hadn’t seen him in a couple years. I didn’t even know he went to this school until I got here on Monday.”

Damian sighed, “Doesn’t matter. I probably won’t be here too much longer.”

“What do you mean,” Josh asked in a concerned voice.

“It’s looking like my Dad is going to get a promotion at his job,” Damian said, “It’ll mean we’ll have to move again, though.”

“That sucks,” Josh said, shocked at the news, “When will you know?”

“Soon,” Damian said as Mr. Phipps walked to the front of the class, “Maybe tonight.”

Damian purposely didn’t take his Lexpad out of his backpack for all of his history class. Damian just focused on the lecture. As a result, his stomach had settled by the time he got to Gym Class. Damian fumbled through another hour of Basketball until he was gladly saved by the bell.

“Remember,” Jason called out as the kids headed for the locker room, “Physical fitness tests tomorrow, and the mile run on Friday.”

“Well, at least those will be easy,” Damian said as he and Jon changed to go home.

“Shouldn’t be too bad,” Jon agreed.

The boys left the locker room, and Jon asked, “Are you feeling better?”

“Yeah,” Damian said as they got on the bus.

Half an hour later, the boys were back in the Kent’s apartment, laying on the beds in Jon’s room, completing their homework.

“Are you sure you want to do your homework,” Jon asked, “if that thing is going to make you sick?”

Damian shrugged, “I should be okay. I won’t be staring at it for as long as I was in class. My stomach is okay, and my headache is mostly gone. I want to know what caused that, though.”

“Me, too,” Jon said, “I’ve never gotten sick from mine. I wonder if Jai or Irey ever got sick from theirs?”

Damian looked up at Jon, “That’s a good question. Let’s call them after we’re done with our homework.”

“Hey, are you going to do the math homework? You missed class,” Jon said.

“I’m doing it right now,” Damian replied.

The boys worked for a few more minutes before Jon stopped and rolled over onto his side, to look at Damian. “Hey, why did you end up at my school, and in my classes? Wouldn’t it have been easier to put you in a high school back home?”

Damian rolled over to look at Jon, “I had my choice of schools. I couldn’t go to one back there; I’d most likely be recognized there. Plus, we wanted to get the input of someone who has been using the Lexpad for a while. I guess I should tell you now that you’ll be asked to give a report of your experiences using the Lexpad as a student.”

Jon’s eyes widened, “You mean, I have group homework?”

Damian smiled, “Yes. Don’t worry, you don’t have a due date yet. By the way, this conversation is a reason why I chose to come here, instead of somewhere else.”

Jon looked confused, “What did I say?”

Damian looked down at his Lexpad, then back at Jon. He then hitched a thumb at the bedroom door. Jon nodded, and the boys walked out of the bedroom.

Sitting on the couch in the living room, Jon eyed Damian and asked, “Do you not trust Tim’s program to stop the passive surveillance?”

“You never know what Luthor has working behind the scenes,” Damian said, “Anyway, Tim’s program only covers the passive surveillance. We both had our pads on and were doing homework. I’m pretty sure we were both under active surveillance.”

“Oh,” Jon said in a worried tone.

“Don’t worry,” Damian said with a smile, “I don’t think you said anything revealing.”

Jon released a relieved breath, “Oh, good.”

The boys were quiet for a minute before Jon asked, “So, what did I say that got you here, and why did you end up here in the first place?”

Damian smiled at his friend, “You said group, instead of League. We both knew you were talking about the Justice League, but you were smart enough not to say it. Sometimes, I think you have more sense than most of the training group, despite being the youngest. We all agreed that you would be able to handle my appearance at your school the best.”

“Wait,” Jon interrupted, “Who is we?”

“The Justice League,” Damian said, “Yes, I would have fit in better in a higher grade. I was placed in your grade, and in your classes, to help me fit in better as an average student. Plus, since you’re bigger than me, I don’t look too out of place.”

“You really think this is the best option for your mission,” Jon asked.

Damian thought for a second, then said, “Well, let’s go over it, one by one. We couldn’t risk putting me in a Gotham school. It’s possible I could be recognized, and Tim and Jason _would_ be recognized. I’m not seen a lot around town, but I _am_ seen. So, Gotham City is out. Garfield is homeschooled, so he doesn’t have a Lexpad. So, San Francisco is out. Lian’s school isn’t rolling out the Lexpads until next school year, so Jump City is out. Jai and Irey have them, but we factored in ability to handle the mission into my final destination.”

“You don’t think Jai and Irey could handle you being in the same school as them for a week?”

“Irey could,” Damian said, “but the issue is Jai. He gets…excited. All those questions you asked me on Monday, when we were alone, he would have blurted them out in class. Jai is my friend, but he isn’t good at picking up on subtle cues. You noticed the bits of my disguise, the altered voice, the changed name, and you waited until it was safe to ask questions. Jai…wouldn’t have done that. Jai would let something slip when it’s supposed to remain secret.”

Jon leaned back and eyed Damian, “He’s your friend. How can you talk about him like that?”

Damian shook his head, “I didn’t say it.”

“You just did,” Jon said.

“Okay, I didn’t say it _first_,” Damian said, “Flash did, in our planning meeting for this mission.”

Jon’s eyes widened, “His own Father said that? Wow.”

“So, that just leaves you,” Damian said with a smile, “We all agreed that this mission would go much easier if it was left to the two of us. Plus, I wanted to come here. I thought this would be fun.”

“You did,” Jon asked.

Damian nodded, “I thought it would be nice to spend some time with my brother.”

Jon blushed, “Aww. Thanks, D.”

“Does that explain it?”

“Yeah,” Jon said.

“Good,” Damian said, “Let’s finish our homework before Tim gets here.”

Jon and Damian returned to the younger’s room to finish their homework a minute before Lois and Clark returned to the apartment.

Lois stood in Jon’s doorway and said, “It’s awfully quiet in here.”

Neither boy looked up, and Jon said, “Because we’re studying, Mom. We have an English test tomorrow.”

“He’s studying,” Damian said distractedly, “I’ve got two more math problems left before I’m done with the homework.”

Lois smiled, “It’s schoolwork; that’s all I care about. Dinner in an hour and a half.”

Lois started to walk away when Damian called out, “Tim will be over again tonight. He needs to take another look at the pad.”

“Thanks for letting me know,” Lois said.

Damian turned off his Lexpad when he was finished and turned his head to look at Jon. “How much more do you have left?”

“Um,” the younger boy said, “I have a few more things I want to review.”

Damian nodded, “Okay.”

Damian fished his phone out of his suitcase and read the text message from Bruce. ‘Call me when you can.’

Damian selected Bruce’s cell contact and walked out of Jon’s room.

“Hey, kiddo,” the familiar voice answered, “How are you feeling?”

“I’m better,” Damian said.

“Yeah? What happened?”

Damian sat on the couch again, “I decided to get a little look at the health risks involved with prolonged usage of the Lexpad. I spent my entire fourth period class looking at nothing but the Lexpad.”

“Admitting to not paying attention in class,” Bruce asked with a smile on his face.

“I was following along,” Damian said, “I just didn’t look up from the Lexpad. By the end of the period, I had a massive headache, and my stomach hated me.”

“But, you’re better now,” Bruce asked, concerned for his son.

Damian nodded slightly, “Yeah. I didn’t even take my pad out of my bag for all of fifth period, and most of my symptoms went away. Or, got better, at least.”

“I see you sold your exit strategy,” Bruce said.

“Did you get more calls from the school,” Damian asked.

“No, but I should probably expect them tomorrow, right?”

“I’ll make something up to hopefully keep that from happening,” Damian said, “I’ll tell them you got the promotion, but won’t get your orders until Friday. That should keep you from getting calls tomorrow.”

Bruce nodded, “I’ll call the school on Friday to inform the office that I’m pulling you out of school.”

“The Vice Principal will probably pull me out of class once you call,” Damian said, “In fact, that might be good. Ask if they can pull me out of class so you can tell me that we’re moving.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Bruce said, “Which class do you have a test in that you’re trying to get out of?”

Damian smiled, “We have an English test tomorrow, and a Math test on Friday. Oh, and state-mandated physical fitness tests on Thursday and Friday. Do _not_ pull me out of sixth period on Friday. I want to wipe any remains of a smirk off of Jason’s face. Um, call me out of third period on Friday. That’s the computer class with Tim.”

“Sounds like a plan, Kiddo,” Bruce said, then groaned at a noise in the background, “Hold on, Kiddo. What is it, Jean?”

Damian couldn’t hear what Bruce’s long-time secretary said, but he heard his Father sigh. “Alright, have him hold for a minute. I’m just wrapping something up…No, it’s not work. I’m talking to my son…Right, I’ll tell him.”

Damian was smiling as Bruce addressed him again, “Jean says hi, and wants to know what department you’ll be working in this summer.”

“I’m sure we’ll figure something out,” Damian said.

“Is there anything else, Damian,” Bruce asked, “I’ve got the head of our Aeronautical Division holding.”

Damian thought for a second, “Jon and I will be home for dinner tomorrow. The Kent’s have a work event, and said they would feel better if we went home instead of staying at the apartment alone.”

“Clark emailed me today,” Bruce said, “I didn’t read it yet, but it must have been telling me about that.”

“I’m going to make Jon finish his homework before we come over, but we should be there before you get home from work.”

“I might just have to come home early tomorrow,” Bruce said, “Sounds like it’s going to be a good night.”

Damian didn’t realize how widely he was smiling as his Father said that, but Clark found it a heartwarming sight as he surreptitiously watched the teen from the kitchen.

“Good night, Father. See you tomorrow.”

“I’ll let Alfred know to expect two hungry boys for dinner. Good night, son.”

Damian hung up his phone and released a contented breath. Clark watched as the teen sat on the couch, not actually looking at anything. _Is this really the same kid that the League thought might be a lost cause, and should be kept as far away from League activities as possible? I’ve never been so glad to be proven wrong in my life. I never would have considered introducing him and Jon five years ago. Now, I hate the thought of them being apart, of them not being friends. Just seeing his reaction to talking to his Dad is enough to know how much he’s changed and matured._

A knock on the door seemed to snap Damian out of his thoughts. He looked around until he caught Clark staring at him.

The Kryptonian grew a smile and said, “Would you mind getting that, Damian?”

“Sure,” Damian said softly, getting off the couch and opening the door.

“Hi, Tim,” Damian said, allowing his older brother into the apartment.

Tim smiled as he closed the door, “Just making yourself right at home, aren’t you?”

Damian rolled his eyes, “Kent _asked _me to get the door.”

“Are you planning on going home after your mission is over, or are you just going to move in?”

“As interesting as that might be,” Damian said, “I think I’ll go home.”

“I talked to Dick,” Tim said.

“Obviously, if you’re here,” Damian interrupted.

Tim rolled his eyes before asking, “How are you feeling?”

“I’m better,” Damian said, “The symptoms seemed to go away once I stopped using the Lexpad for a while.”

“About how long, would you say,” Tim asked.

Clark walked into the living room, “Wait, did the Lexpad make you sick?”

Damian nodded, “Yes. As for duration, I used the Lexpad continuously for an hour, not looking at anything else. That was fourth period. It took all of lunch and all of fifth period for the nausea to go away. The headache didn’t go away until about an hour after we got back here.”

“Wow,” Clark said, “I didn’t think the health reports would be founded.”

“I’ll take another look at the Lexpad,” Tim said, “Are you done with your homework?”

“Tt. Of course. Why don’t you take a look at Jon’s Lexpad, too. He said his has never bothered him. Maybe there is a difference in models, or something.”

Tim nodded, “Good idea. Let’s go.”

**A/N: Well, this one is coming along nicely. At this point, I have two more chapters to write before this one is done. The story is actually coming to me pretty easily. The only thing I’m having problems with is remembering the names of the minor characters I created from one chapter to another. I don’t know why I can’t remember some of these teacher’s names, but I have to keep switching back and forth between chapters to keep up continuity. Oh, well.**

**What do you all think so far? Think my timeline needs more Super Sons? How about the training group? Are you still interested in that? Should I consider expanding the group? Who would be appropriate to add to the training group, if I decided to add to the group? You all know how to let me know.**

**Thanks for playing along.**


	4. Thursday

School Days

Chapter 4

_Thursday…_

One hand slapped at the buzzing alarm clock while the other whipped the pillow from under his head. Jon swung the pillow at Damian, hoping to hit him with a sneak attack.

“Come on, sleepyhead! Out of…bed…”

Jon was confused as his pillow hit Damian’s pillow. The air mattress was unoccupied.

Jon looked around the room, until he saw Damian sitting against the far wall, staring at him, with his phone pressed to his ear.

“No, that was just Jon, waking up for the day,” Damian said into the phone. “Thanks to you, I’m safe from a pillow assault. Are you going to be okay?”

Damian nodded at the response to his question, “Good. Try to get back to sleep, Beautiful. I’m okay, you don’t have to worry about me. Love you. I’ll talk to you after school.”

Jon sat up and looked at Damian as he hung up his phone and wrapped his arms around his knees. “What’s wrong, Damian?”

Damian heaved a sigh, “That was Robin. She had a nightmare that involved me dying in front of her, and she couldn’t stop it. It scared her enough to call me in the middle of the night to make sure I’m still alive.”

“How long have you been on the phone,” Jon asked, “I didn’t even hear it ring.”

Damian shook his head, “It’s a little after two in the morning in Alaska. It’s still the middle of the night for her. She called me about half an hour ago.”

Jon cocked his head, “You’re worried.”

Damian raised his head, “Of course, I’m worried. She’s four thousand miles away, and she needs me. I can’t be there for her. I hate being away from her. I hate her feeling this way. She needs a hug, and all I can do is talk to her.”

“You’ll see her soon, though, won’t you,” Jon asked.

“Not for a couple months,” Damian said softly.

Damian looked down again. Jon didn’t know how to help his friend. He wished he knew a way to distract the teen.

“OUT OF BED!”

“AAAH!”

Lois shoved Jon’s bedroom door open forcefully. The door was usually closed completely at night, and Lois had meant to just slap the door, as she did every morning. The door wasn’t fully closed this morning, and today’s slap shoved the door wide open.

Unfortunately, Damian was sitting next to the door.

Not only was Lois surprised by the sudden opening of the door, but also the sudden stop, the loud thump and shout, and the wide-eyed gasp from her son.

Lois peeked around the door to find Damian laying on the floor with his arms thrown up to protect his head.

“Damian?”

“A simple ‘good morning’ would have been sufficient,” Damian said, peering at Lois through the space between his crossed arms.

Lois gave a soft smile, “Sorry, Damian. Breakfast in twenty, boys.”

Lois left the room as Damian sat up again. Taking a breath, Damian mumbled, “Maybe Robin was right to be worried about my safety.”

“What do you mean,” Jon asked as he made his bed.

Damian got up and pulled clothes out of his suitcase, “First, you tried hitting me. Then, your mother nearly wiped me out with the door. Maybe I’m in more danger here than I thought.”

Jon just laughed as Damian headed for the bathroom.

_Later…_

“Damian, can I have a second, please?”

The morning had calmed down, and the boys got to school on time. The only activity in first period had been the scheduled test, which had taken Damian all of eleven minutes to complete.

One feature of the Lexpad that Damian wasn’t expecting, but was impressed with, was instant scoring. For multiple choice tests, like the one Damian had just completed, the teacher could load the answer grid into the system and let the computer score the tests. Damian had been surprised that, five seconds after pressing the ‘submit’ button, he got a message informing him of his perfect score.

Damian spent the rest of the period reading a book, one of his Father’s paperback murder mysteries that he had grabbed at random from the library before leaving the manor. It was a terrible story, but it was better than twiddling his thumbs for the last thirty-five minutes of class.

Now that class was over and he was headed for the door, Mr. Kirby flagged down the disguised teen.

“Yes, Mr. Kirby?”

“Damian, what happened?”

Confused, Damian said, “What do you mean? The Lexpad told me I got all of the questions right.”

Mr. Kirby smiled, “No, with your Dad. What happened?”

“Oh,” Damian said before looking around at the quickly emptying classroom, “He got the promotion.”

“Oh,” Mr. Kirby said in a low tone, “I guess that’s good and bad.”

Damian took a breath, “They didn’t give him his new assignment yet, so I’ll still be here tomorrow.”

“When will he tell you where you’re going,” the teacher asked.

Damian looked down, “Not until we’re on the plane, on our way there. That’s how he’s always done it.”

Mr. Kirby’s eyes widened, “So, you won’t know where you’re going until you get there?”

“For security reasons,” Damian said, giving a small nod, “Excuse me, I don’t want to be late for my next class.”

Damian left the room, and ran into Suzy in the hallway. “What was that about,” the girl asked.

Damian was surprised to see the girl. “Oh. It’s…personal. I’ve got some stuff going on at home.”

“Well, I hope it’s okay,” Suzy said, “I’ll see you at lunch.”

Suzy and Damian rushed off in opposite directions, not wanting to be late for class.

As Damian walked into his Math class, he thought _hmm…I might have to do more to sell my departure than I thought. I’ve been focusing on the teachers, but do I need to do something for the students? I can’t leave this all on Jon. Did I really make friends in less than a week? That’s a first for me._

“Selling the cover,” Jon asked in a hushed tone as Damian sat down.

“Yeah,” Damian breathed back.

“You were almost late to class,” Jon said, “Mrs. March doesn’t like that.”

“But I wasn’t late,” Damian said as Mrs. March walked in and started class.

_Twenty Minutes Later…_

“MR. JONES!”

Damian jumped in his seat at the shout. “I wasn’t snoring!”

“You weren’t paying attention, either,” Mrs. March said, “See me after class, please.”

Damian looked down, ignoring the barely stifled giggles of the other students, “Yes, Mrs. March.”

_After Class…_

“Yes, Mrs. March?”

The math teacher looked up from her desk at the teen, “Jones, yes. What’s going on with you? You missed class entirely yesterday, and now you’re sitting there in a daze. Are you on drugs, or something?”

Damian cocked his head and gave an innocent look, “No. Why, should I be?”

The comment drew a chuckle from the teacher. “Seriously, what’s going on?”

_Does she really care? Oh well, she’ll find out eventually._ “I was in Mr. Connor’s office yesterday. You sent me there, remember? I’m…my Dad got a promotion at work…and a transfer. We…we’re moving this weekend.”

“To where,” the woman asked in a softer tone than Damian had ever heard her use.

Damian shrugged, “I don’t know yet. Neither does he. We go where he’s needed. He works for the government. We…we’ve moved a lot, but I was hoping to be here for a little longer. This move is just hitting me a little harder, this time.”

Mrs. March nodded and took a breath, “I see. Well, if it’s worth anything, I’m sorry for snapping at you. Um, don’t worry about the test tomorrow.”

“I’m not worried,” Damian said, “This is all pretty easy material.”

“I meant you don’t have to take it.”

Damian shrugged, “I’ll still be here tomorrow. I might as well take it. It beats sitting in class, doing nothing.”

Damian slumped down at his computer in the Computer Lab and heaved a sigh. Jon smiled as he patted Damian’s shoulder.

“Detention,” Jon asked.

“Compassion,” Damian answered.

“Huh?”

“I told her I was distracted because I’m moving, not because her voice was putting me to sleep. Mrs. March changed her attitude when I told her that.”

“Wow,” Jon said, “Who would have thought she had a heart?”

Damian turned his head to look at his friend. Speaking in what had become his normal, Americanized voice, Damian said, “Jonathan Samuel Kent. That was a cruel, unfair remark. You should know better than that. Not only am I appalled that you said that…but I’m ashamed for not thinking of it first.”

Jon gave a soft giggle, then spoke in a decent impersonation of Damian’s softer, accented voice. “I guess you’re a big influence on me. We should blame my teachers.”

Resuming his accent, Damian said, “I knew you’d find a way to blame this on me. You’re getting good at mimicry, by the way.”

Jon smiled as Tim walked into the room, “Thanks.”

Tim walked straight over to the boys and said quietly, “I figured it out. I’ll come over tonight to explain it.”

Damian and Jon looked at each other and smiled. They looked back at Tim, and Damian spoke in a perfect impersonation of Jon’s voice, “Good, but come over early. We’re going home for dinner.”

Just as Tim’s jaw was dropping, Jon spoke in Damian’s accented voice, “Mom and Dad have to work late tonight, so as soon as we’re done with our homework, we’re going to the Manor.”

Tim shook his head and headed for the front of the room, “Good god, that’s creepy. I’m not going to be able to get that out of my head.”

Damian and Jon gave a giggle, and Tim thought _I shouldn’t have said that. Now, they’re going to do that every time they see me when they’re together._

_Lunch…_

“What are you serving today,” Damian asked as he got to the front of the lunch line.

The lunch lady smiled at Damian, “Are you feeling better today?”

_I know this is a smaller school, but does the lunch lady really remember that I didn’t eat lunch yesterday?_ “Yes, thank you.”

“It’s pizza day. Do you want cheese or pepperoni?”

Damian gave a pleasant smile, “Cheese, please, and a bag of pretzels, and a Sprite.”

Damian thanked the lunch lady and followed Jon out to the tables. Josh and Suzy were already sitting at one, waiting for Jon and Damian to show up.

Suzy started in hesitantly before Jon and Damian sat down. “So, is, um, everything okay?”

Jon looked confused, but Damian gave a small sigh, “About as good as it can be.”

“What’s going on,” Josh asked.

“Damian said he had something going on at home earlier,” Suzy said.

Jon eyed Damian, wondering when Damian had spoken to the girl, but asked, “What’s up?”

“I’m, um,” Damian looked down at the table, partly to play his role, and partly to hide his smile at Jon playing along, “My Dad’s getting a transfer at his job. We…we’re moving, again.”

“Where,” Josh asked, surprised at the news.

“I don’t know yet,” Damian said, looking up again.

“Somewhere close,” Suzy asked.

Damian shook his head, “Our moves are never close. With Dad’s job, it could be anywhere in the world.”

“You’re really leaving again,” Jon asked softly, “I…you just got here.”

Damian saw the sad look on Jon’s face. _Damn, as if this wasn’t hard enough. I think I taught you too well, Jon. Thanks for being convincing, though._ “That’s how Dad’s job goes. We have to go where he’s ordered.”

“Well, will you be able to come back,” Suzy asked.

Damian shook his head, “Probably not. Maybe for, like, a vacation, or something, but that might be years away. I mean, Metropolis is the closest thing to a home we’ve had, and we haven’t been here in two years.”

“Give us your phone number,” Josh said, “We can at least keep in touch.”

Damian looked at the table, “I don’t have a phone. Dad will probably get me one once we get to his new assignment.”

“Do you know where you’re going,” Suzy asked.

Damian shook his head, “No. Dad won’t be able to tell me until we’re on the plane, on our way there.”

“Where do you think, though,” Josh asked.

Damian took a breath, “With what Dad does, I think we’re going to Turkey, this time. Maybe Lebanon. Somewhere in the Middle East, though.”

Suzy’s jaw dropped, “That’s, like, the other side of the world.”

Damian shrugged, “I’ve spent more time over there than over here.”

“Are you okay with this,” Jon asked.

Damian closed his eyes and tried to put just a bit more pain on his face than he was actually feeling. “No, I’m not. I don’t want to leave again. I was just starting to get used to this place.”

Suzy took a piece of paper out of her bag and wrote something on it. She handed it to Josh, who looked at it and wrote something on it as well, before handing it to Jon. Jon played along and wrote on the paper before handing it to Damian.

“What’s this,” Damian asked.

“Whenever you get to where you’re going, if you can, call us sometime,” Jon said.

Damian folded up the list of phone numbers and put it in his bag, “It might be a while. Getting me a new phone won’t really be high on Dad’s priority list, once we get there. Thank you, though.”

The bell rang, ending lunch. Suzy looked rather sick as she asked, “Do you know when you’ll be leaving?”

Damian took a deep breath, “If Dad gets his orders today, we’ll leave after school tomorrow. If he gets his orders tomorrow, we’ll leave Saturday morning. We, um, packed last night.”

“Man, this sucks,” Josh said.

“I know,” Damian said, feeling like trash for what he was doing to these genuinely nice kids.

Suzy walked away, to go to her class, while the boys sat together in the back of their history class.

Once class was over, and Josh left to go to his last class of the day, Damian sighed and said softly to Jon, “Damn, that was hard. I’ve never had to say goodbye to people before.”

Jon eyed Damian, “So, you weren’t just acting?”

“Were you,” Damian asked, returning the look.

Jon shook his head, “Not as much as I thought I would. You…you’re really fitting in around here.”

Damian stopped Jon just outside of the locker room, “You are _not_ allowed to lose those two friends. I _will_ be checking on that.”

“What about you, though,” Jon said softly.

Damian looked down, “We talked about that already. I have to go away and stay away. You have to be here, so surround yourself with good friends.”

The boys changed for P.E. and walked out of the locker room with their class.

Jason eyed the boys for a second before starting class. “Okay, it’s the day you all have been waiting for. It’s state-mandated physical fitness day. Get warmed up and prepare yourselves.”

“Amelia, George, get it done,” Mr. Donell called out.

The class stretched for a couple minutes longer than necessary, thinking it would improve their performance.

Mr. Donell looked around at the students and shook his head, “I see Erica is absent again. Funny how she seems to get sick every physical fitness day. Okay, pair off and count for each other. We’re going to start with push-ups.”

Damian walked up to Jason with an evil smirk on his face, that only Jason could see. “Would you count for me, Mr. Todd?”

“Only if you want to get a zero recorded for your score,” Jason grumbled, only loud enough for Damian to hear.

Damian’s smirk grew, “You’re not allowed to do that. Not with everyone watching. That’s your fault, too. With what you made us do on Monday, the class will be watching to see what kind of numbers I put up today. What’s the matter? You know I’m going to do more than the rest of the class, and you’re worried you can’t count that high?”

Jason bristled at the jab, but remembered he was supposed to be a teacher, “On your face, Squirt.”

Mr. Donell spoke again, “Okay, you have one minute to do as many push-ups as you can. Then, after we record your numbers, you’ll switch places and count for your partner. Get ready.”

Jason, Damian, and Jon couldn’t help but notice that most of the class was paying more attention to them than their own work, as Damian suspected.

“Go,” Mr. Donell called out.

A minute later, Mr. Donell blew his whistle, ending the exercise. Most of the kids collapsed. Damian and Jon didn’t. They just stopped.

Jason smirked at his brother, “Not bad, Squirt. You did fifty.”

“Fifty two,” Damian said, “Did you think I wouldn’t count along as I went? You think I’m actually trusting your ability to count without having to take your shoes off?”

Jason shrugged, “Just rounding it to a nice even number.”

“Rounding down,” Damian grumbled.

Mr. Donell was calling out names and taking down totals. Damian and Jason didn’t pay attention until they heard the call of, “Kent?”

“Forty-five,” was called out by his partner, bringing a smirk to Damian’s face.

An impressed murmur ran through the class at Jon’s number, the highest so far recorded.

“Jones?”

Damian looked at Jason, who said, “Fifty-two.” The number brought out another, louder murmur.

The rest of the first group reported their numbers, and the class switched positions.

Literally being the odd man out in the class of nineteen, Damian stood next to Jason and asked, “Are you sure you don’t want to get down there and give it a shot? See if you can beat my number?”

“Next week,” Jason murmured, “We’ll do it properly.”

The class finished their push-ups, and Mr. Donell called out, “Good. While you’re down there, we’ll do sit-ups. Same drill. You have one minute to crank out as many sit-ups as possible. Get ready.”

Damian laid down and Jason knelt on his feet. He grabbed Damian’s ankles, and the teen flinched.

“What,” Jason asked softly.

“Careful around my ankle,” Damian said.

“The one you broke last summer?”

Damian gave a soft nod, “It’s never felt like that before. Don’t touch it.”

“GO!”

Damian started doing sit-ups as Jason moved his hand a little higher on the teen’s ankle. He smirked down at his little brother and whispered, “Nice boxers, by the way.”

Damian froze for five full seconds before he continued with his sit-ups. “Don’t you…have anything…better…to do…than look up…my shorts?”

Jason smirked, “I knew I called you Short Stuff for a reason.”

Mr. Donell blew the whistle, and Damian stopped moving. Sitting up, he spoke into Jason’s ear, “Think about what you just said, look at where your hands are, and look at where you are. Remember, right now, you aren’t my brother. You just sexually harassed a student, and a minor, at that.”

Damian stood up and took a step away from Jason as the man looked around the class. It didn’t seem like anyone was looking their way.”

“Kent,” Mr. Donell called out, recording totals again.

“Forty-three.”

Damian’s eyes widened. _I didn’t even keep count this time. Damn Jason. I hate having to trust him for this._

“Jones?”

“Forty,” Jason said, bringing a smile to Jon’s face.

Damian shrugged. _I guess I can accept that number. It’s still the second highest in the class. Losing to Superboy in a strength contest is no embarrassment._

“How many did I actually do,” Damian murmured to Jason.

“I wasn’t counting,” Jason said, “I was distracted by your baby bat.”

“Why were you even looking,” Damian asked.

“Believe it or not, I was trying not to touch your ankle. I moved my hand up, grabbed your leg…and I was surprised to feel hair. I looked down and saw more than I wanted to.”

Damian cocked his head, “Why were you surprised by leg hair?”

Jason sighed, “I forgot, okay? I forget sometimes that you’re as old as you are. We all do.”

Damian looked down, “Is that why no one takes me seriously? You all think of me as some baby?”

Damian walked away, leaving Jason with a stunned look on his face.

Mr. Donell called out, “Okay, it’s time for the pole climb. Let’s go.”

The class wandered over to the climbing poles, a steel apparatus twenty feet high, with four evenly spaced climbing poles.

Mr. Donell and Jason stood next to the poles, and Mr. Donell said, “Volunteers, please?”

No one was too willing to step up, so Jason said, “You’re all going to do it, so you might as well get it over with.”

Damian rolled his eyes and stepped up to one of the poles. Jon followed and took the next pole. The last two were filled, and Damian muttered to Jon, “No powers, Jon. That’s cheating.”

“I don’t need them for this,” Jon murmured back.

“Ready? Go!”

The four students started climbing. Three made it half way. Two made it to the top, with Damian edging out Jon by half a second. The teen had a smirk on his face as they slid back to the ground.

“Good job,” Mr. Donell called out. “Next four.”

Over the next ten minutes, the rest of the class completed the climb, to the best of their abilities.

Jon stood next to Damian as they watched the class, and asked, “What’s up with you and Jason? You look like you’re mad at him.”

“Nothing,” Damian said, not able to hide his attitude, “Just something I need to talk about with Father.”

“What’s this baby bat he was talking about?”

Damian visibly flinched and stared at Jon before shaking his head, “Super hearing. Right. He was trying to distract me by saying he was looking up my shorts while I was doing sit-ups.”

Jon blushed bright red, and covered his mouth to try to keep from laughing too loudly. “Baby bat. He was talking about…that’s hilarious.”

Damian rolled his eyes, “I keep forgetting that you’re twelve.”

“Alright,” Mr. Donell said, “Pull ups. We’ll go alphabetically this time, to make sure we move along at a good pace. Alvarez, you’re up first.”

As the class gathered around the pull-up bar, Damian whispered to Jon, “You can ask Robin. There have never been any complaints about the baby bat.”

Jon’s blush deepened as he thought about the statement, and for once thought that Damian’s tendency to be open and honest with him had finally gone too far.

“Jones! You’re next.”

Damian walked up to the bar, then looked at Mr. Donell, “How many do you want?”

“One is passing,” the teacher said, “Five would be great. Ten would really impress me.”

Damian nodded, jumped up to the bar, and quickly pumped out fifteen reps before dropping back to the ground.

“Is that good?”

“That’ll do, Jones. Kent, get up there.”

Jon did ten pull-ups, and did a good job pretending he was struggling through the last three.

Damian rolled his eyes as Jon walked over to stand next to him. “You did forty on Monday with no problem. No one’s going to believe that you were struggling with ten today.”

“I was keeping up with you on Monday,” Jon whispered, “but I didn’t know what I was getting myself into. I…I cheated on Monday. I had to use powers.”

“I told you, no cheating,” Damian said.

“And if I didn’t, you would have tried to push yourself through all sixty that we thought Jason wanted us to do,” Jon replied.

“Yes, I would,” Damian replied with a shrug.

“And the suspicions of Superboy attending this school would almost be confirmed.”

_He’s right,_ Damian thought, _me being me has the possibility of exposing Jon as Superboy._ “Do people really suspect that,” Damian asked softly.

Jon shrugged, “They suspect it of every school in Metropolis. Dad always said not to give them any extra evidence.”

Damian took a breath, “I’m sorry for pushing you into almost exposing yourself.”

Jon smiled, “It’s been fun. Don’t worry about it.”

The class completed flexibility testing and the standing high jump. Damian was far more flexible than Jon, but Jon was able to jump almost three inches higher than Damian.

Damian shrugged as Jon smirked at him after the jump, “High jump has never been my thing.”

“You should play more sports,” Jon said.

“I don’t like sports,” Damian replied.

“How many have you tried,” Jon asked.

“Including Basketball?”

“Including Basketball.”

“One,” Damian said.

The boys walked towards the bus, and Jon shook his head, “Oh, Damian. That’s sad. You and your Dad have never even played catch? That would count as a sport.”

“Father doesn’t do sports, either,” Damian said, a bit sadly.

Jon felt rather bad for his friend after hearing that.

“How much homework do you have,” Damian asked as the boys walked into the Kent’s apartment.

“Just Math and Science,” Jon said.

“Same here,” Damian said, “Let’s get it done, so we can go.”

Jon smirked as Damian sat down on the couch and pulled out his Lexpad. Jon pulled out his phone and called Lois.

“Hi, Mom. We’re home.”

“Good,” Lois said, “Get your homework done. We won’t be home until late.”

“We’ll be back around bedtime,” Jon said.

“Make sure you’re in bed by the time we get home,” Lois said.

“We will,” Jon said, “When we’re done with our homework, we’ll leave here.”

“Call me when you get there,” Lois said, “so we know you’re there.”

“Okay, Mom. I’ve got to get my homework done. Damian is giving me looks.”

Lois smiled, “Tell him to calm down. You two will get there in plenty of time for dinner.”

“Will do. Bye, Mom.”

Jon hung up his phone and pulled out his Lexpad. Knowing it would be easier, Jon completed his Science homework first. A short chapter to read and three simple questions, with the answers drawn directly from the reading, made the assignment go by quickly.

Damian started with the Math homework, and was able to complete it by the time Jon was on the fourth problem.

Looking over at Jon’s progress, Damian said, “You’re smarter than this, Jon. How are you so far behind?”

Jon rolled his eyes, “I did the Science homework first. Look, I know you’re eager to get home, but calm down. I’ve only got twelve more problems. We’ll get there.”

“Father said he’d come home early tonight,” Damian said, “He rarely does that.”

“I get it,” Jon said with a smile, “You miss him. It’s okay. What’s really surprising is that you’re comfortable acting this way in front of me.”

Damian thought for a second as the doorbell rang, “You’re my brother. That’ll be Tim.”

Damian got up to answer the door. Jon stared at the older boy’s back as he crossed the room. _He said that like it explains everything. He’s okay opening up around me because he sees me as family, as his brother. Why is it the littlest things like that from him that make me feel so good?_

Damian opened the door to let Tim in, “Hello, Tim. Is Jason not coming?”

Tim walked into the apartment and shook his head, “He didn’t think you’d be too happy to see him. Are you guys ready to go?”

“Not yet,” Damian said as they walked into the living room, “Make yourself comfortable. We’ll be a few more minutes.”

Tim smiled as he sat down on a chair and watched the boys work on the couch_. Neither of them changed out of their school uniforms. Is Damian in that much of a hurry to get to the Manor, that he doesn’t want to take the time to change, or does he want to look good for presenting to his Father, and this is the nicest thing he has with him? This school has nice uniforms; at least on par with The Warrington School. I wonder if Damian will remember that he’s still wearing his disguise glasses?_

Several minutes later, Damian did one last check through his assignments, to make sure he didn’t forget anything, before turning off his Lexpad. He looked over at Jon, to see that he was almost done with problem number fourteen out of sixteen of their Math homework. Tim noticed that the teen was done, and hitched a thumb at the kitchen when Damian looked up. Damian shook his head and pointed to the hall.

Damian got up and walked to Jon’s bedroom, to put his bag away. Tim followed him in and asked softly, “What did Jason do that he feels guilty enough to miss one of Alfred’s dinners?”

Damian sighed, “He confirmed why he’s here. None of you think I can handle myself on my own. Not even Father.”

“That’s not true, Damian,” Tim said, “The League never would have assigned this to you if they didn’t trust you to handle yourself.”

“I’m not talking about the League,” Damian said, trying to keep his voice down, “I’m talking about Father. There is no reason for Todd to be here, other than to watch me. I don’t need a babysitter.”

Tim released a slow breath, “You don’t get it, Damian. You’re absolutely right; you don’t need a babysitter. You need a parent, and Bruce can’t be here this week to do that. He can’t be here, I’m already in another role, Alfred wouldn’t be convincing as a new teacher, and it would be very hard to hide your connection with Dick. That leaves Jason as another set of eyes. A back up, in case something happens.”

“Father doesn’t think Kent is capable of that,” Damian asked.

“You know how your father thinks. He will trust family over anyone and everyone,” Tim said, “Clark can tell him that everything is fine, and he’ll still double-check it with family.”

Damian sighed as he stared at Tim for a minute. “You can come in, Jon. It’s your room, after all.”

Jon edged into the room from where he had been standing in the hall, “Are you two arguing?”

“Don’t pretend you weren’t listening, Jon,” Damian said, “You’re still too innocent to be a good liar. Did you even finish the last problem of your homework?”

“I finished it,” Jon said, “If all he’s doing is watching, then what’s the problem?”

“It’s insulting,” Damian said.

“It’s good practice,” Tim said, “You can’t predict everything, and having a second set of eyes and ears watching who we’re watching is a good idea.”

“This is a low-risk mission,” Damian said, “If we didn’t want a second opinion, it would have just been assigned to Jon. Now, all of a sudden, because I’m here, there needs to be two back up observers?”

“I was always going to be here,” Tim said, “for the technical aspect. But, you’re right, Jason wouldn’t have been assigned if you weren’t here.”

Jon looked between the brothers, “Wait, so you _are_ watching Damian?”

Damian crossed his arms over his chest and stared at Tim expectantly. Tim gave a weary smirk, “Damian, you’ve never spent time in a normal, public Middle School. We had to make sure you weren’t going to, well, act like…you. You are a fifteen year old who normally acts like an adult, who is being thrust into a position where you have to pretend to be thirteen and act like all the other twelve and thirteen year olds around you. You’re good, Damian, but you don’t exactly have a frame of reference for your character.”

Damian gave a smirk, “So, you thought I’d act more childish if Todd was around?”

“Something like that,” Tim said with a smile, “Come on, Bruce said he was leaving work at two today. Let’s get there.”

Damian’s jaw dropped, “Wait. Father said he would leave early, and he actually did it?”

“You’ll just have to see when we get there.”

_Stately Wayne Manor…_

After Jon took a couple minutes to lock up the apartment, the trio headed for the Zeta Tube and beamed to the cave. Damian wasn’t aware of the smile that drew itself across his face as he took in the familiar, subterranean space. Dick and Alfred were in the cave, watching their youngsters approach.

_Oh my, _Alfred thought_, those two boys could almost pass for brothers when they’re dressed alike like that. I believe young Master Damian would point out that they _are_ brothers. I believe it, today._

“Hey, you two,” Dick said, “Long time, no see.”

Jon looked between Dick and Damian, and said, “Hi, Uncle Dick. I need to call Mom. I told her I would, when we got here.”

Dick saw Jon’s glance at Damian and knew what the boy was thinking, “Come on. Let’s go upstairs.”

Once in the house, Dick took Jon to the front sitting room. Alfred placed a gentle hand on Damian’s shoulder, “Young sir, your Father requested you join him immediately upon your arrival. He is in his study.”

Damian nodded, “Thank you, Alfred. It’s good to see you.”

Damian walked away, and didn’t see the smile on the butler’s face.

“Come in,” Bruce said in response to the knock on his study door. He had to do a double-take when Damian walked into the office. _Geez, I barely recognized him, with the school uniform and glasses._

“Hey, kiddo,” Bruce said.

“Hi, Father,” Damian said softly, closing the door behind him.

_Yep, that’s what I thought,_ Bruce thought, _it’s a good thing I told Dick to keep Jon company for a few minutes._

Bruce held out his hand, and Damian walked around the desk to take it. Bruce pulled Damian into his lap, which Damian didn’t try to fight, and pulled the glasses off of his son. “They look good on you, son.”

“I forgot I was wearing them,” Damian said softly.

Bruce put the glasses into the front pocket of Damian’s blue blazer and pulled the teen in tightly against his chest. “Relax, Damian,” Bruce said softly, leaning back in the chair, “I just wanted to see you alone for a few minutes.”

Damian snuggled into Bruce’s chest, closing his eyes as he laid his head on Bruce’s shoulder.

“You doing good, Kiddo,” Bruce murmured.

“Do you trust me, Father,” Damian whispered.

“Of course.”

“Then, why send Todd to babysit? He confirmed it for me today, that you all see me as a baby.”

Bruce released a breath, “You’ll find out one day. It’s hard to watch your kids grow up. You’re getting closer and closer to that day when you won’t need me anymore. I just want to keep an eye on you, not because I don’t trust you, but because I love you. You know that being protective runs in the family.”

“I still need you, Father,” Damian breathed.

_After Dinner…_

Because Alfred wouldn’t allow shop talk at the dinner table tonight, Bruce had to wait until they were done with their gourmet feast, which Alfred had started working on before Bruce had left for work in the morning, to discuss recent developments in the case.

Sitting on the couch in the den, with Damian leaning against his side, and Titus sitting with his head in Damian’s lap, Bruce asked, “So, what is this new breakthrough in the case, Tim?”

Tim smiled as he sipped at a cup of coffee, “I figured out the health issues. They are definitely caused by the Lexpad.”

“What is it,” Damian asked, remembering the queasy feeling in his stomach from the day before.

“It’s not anything that needs to be worried about,” Tim said.

“Are you kidding,” Jon asked, “Damian looked like he was seasick. I didn’t want to sit next to him at lunch yesterday. I thought he was going to throw up all over me.”

Tim thought about it for a second, “In a way, he was almost seasick. We don’t need to worry about it, because Lexcorp is aware of the problem, and has worked quietly to fix it.”

That surprised Bruce, “They have? Good. At least Luthor is trying to make things right. What caused it?”

“A software issue,” Tim said with a smile, “In order to get the Lexpads to schools as quickly as possible, not all of the bugs were eliminated from the production units. There was an inconsistency with the screen refresh rate. Not enough to be visibly noticeable, but enough to mess with your equilibrium. So, yes, the Lexpad gave you motion sickness.”

“How do we fix it,” Damian asked.

Tim shrugged, “We don’t have to. Luthor pushed out an update patch that stabilized the refresh rate.”

“My Lexpad obviously didn’t get it,” Damian grumbled.

Tim shook his head, “No, it didn’t. You haven’t had it long enough for all the updates to go into effect. I noticed it when I took a look at Jon’s Lexpad side by side with yours last night. Jon has been using his since the start of the school year. You’ve had one for four days. Jon’s is running a higher system patch level than yours.”

“Shouldn’t mine have installed all of the latest updates when it was initialized on Monday,” Damian asked.

“You just got enough to get the unit functional,” Tim said, “Standard updates are scheduled for Friday nights, so they don’t interfere with class schedules. Lexcorp takes copies of all your weekly data, then downloads updates. If you were going to be there longer, you would see a bunch of updates pushed to the Lexpad tomorrow night.”

Bruce released a breath, “So, the health issues are just an oversight that Lexcorp has already addressed, not a nefarious plot. That completes half of the mission. Anything new on the surveillance systems?”

Tim sighed, “We’ll have a hard time proving they’re there without a federal warrant to access Lexcorp servers.”

“Your program doesn’t tell you what Lexcorp is seeing,” Dick asked.

Tim shook his head, “Not if we don’t want Lexcorp to know the program is there. I can block the passive surveillance without being noticed, but I can’t piggyback off their feed without being detected.”

“We might be able to do something about that,” Bruce said, “The League has put out several inquiries with the FCC about safety concerns with the Lexpad.”

“How many,” Damian asked.

Bruce smiled, “Enough to get their attention. They should start looking into the Lexpads soon.”

“Where does that leave us,” Jon asked, “I still have to use the Lexpad.”

“You’ll just have to be careful around it,” Damian said, “Only use it for school work, and make sure you’re not around it if you’re talking about hero stuff, just to be safe.”

Jon looked down, “So, the mission is over, then?”

Damian glanced up at Bruce, then to Jon, who was sitting next to him on the couch, “I still need to finish up my extraction. I can’t just stop showing up to school without an explanation.”

“But you’re never going to see Josh or Suzy again, right?”

Dick looked at Tim and mouthed, “_Who are Josh and Suzy_?”

Tim smiled and mouthed back, “_Friends_.”

Dick smiled at the fact that his little brother made friends in less than a week.

“I’ll see them tomorrow,” Damian said, “but no, after that, I won’t see them again.”

“You understand your role in this, right Jon,” Bruce asked.

Jon sighed, “I’m supposed to tell people that you got a transfer, so Damian had to leave. I don’t know where you’re going, and I don’t have a way of contacting Damian. I’m waiting for a contact that will never come.”

Bruce reached over and grabbed Jon’s shoulder comfortingly, “I know it’s hard, Jon. I know lying like that doesn’t come easy to you, but that’s what will sell the story. People know you’re honest. When the other kids aren’t contacted, they’ll believe you weren’t contacted either, and Damian Jones will fade from their memories.”

Jon looked down again, “Losing friends isn’t easy. This probably isn’t good for the mission, but Damian won’t be easy to forget at school.”

“Um, he might be right,” Tim said, “I heard in the teacher’s lounge yesterday that, if Damian had been at the school longer, he would probably be made student of the week, based on academic performance.”

Damian’s eyes widened at the news, “Student of the week?”

Bruce patted Damian’s chest, pride radiating through the father, “That’s impressive, but why couldn’t you do that when you were actually in school?”

Dick smiled, “The Warrington School doesn’t do a student of the week.”

Tim spoke up, “Damian didn’t take normal classes.”

“Why don’t they give it to you, Jon,” Damian asked.

Jon shrugged, “I was student of the week back in December.”

Damian looked over at Tim, “Wait, because I’ve only been there for four days, I’m not eligible?”

Tim shrugged, wondering just how much Damian wanted to earn a recognition like this, “They want to make sure you actually deserve it, and aren’t just having a good week.”

“Oh,” Damian said, debating with himself on asking to extend his mission for another week.

Bruce smiled at his boys, “If you keep saying you haven’t heard from Damian, Jon, people will eventually stop asking. Next weekend, we’ll do a wrap-up in our League Meeting. You two will give your impressions, then go to your training. Did Damian tell you about that?”

Jon nodded, “Yeah, my League homework. W-what do I have to say?”

“You get the easy report,” Damian said, “All you have to do is tell the League what it is like to use the Lexpad as a student. I’ll be right there with you. There’s nothing to be worried about.”

Bruce looked back and forth between the two youths, “I think we can call this ‘mission accomplished’. Good job, boys. I’m proud of you.”

Jon’s nerves were overcome by the happy feeling the comment sent shooting through him.

Alfred called from the doorway, “Dessert is served, gentlemen.”

The men walked back to the dining room to find apple pie and ice cream. Jon gave a huge smile as he dug in.

Finishing his pie, Bruce asked, “What time do you have to go back?”

Jon wiped at his sticky cheeks, “Mom and Dad didn’t say when they’d be home. We just have to be back by bed time.”

“Which is what time,” Bruce asked again.

“Ten,” Jon said, “We just have to shower and get ready for bed.”

Bruce smiled as he checked his watch, “Eight-fifteen now. What time are you going to go?”

“We should be fine if we leave by nine,” Damian said.

Jon giggled, “Hey, that rhymed.”

“So, what do you think of Middle School, son,” Bruce asked as they sat in the den again.

Damian shrugged, “I’m bored most of the time. The work is far too easy. Jon, you’re smarter than the level you’re at. Have you thought of working ahead?”

Jon blushed a bit, “You…you really think so?”

“I know so,” Damian said.

“I never thought about it,” Jon said.

“What do you think of the school,” Bruce asked.

Damian turned to lean against Bruce again as Dick sat down on the couch, next to Jon. The younger boy unconsciously leaned back against Dick.

“I think I like it better than I liked The Warrington School. The students are less stuck up, and the teachers seem to care.”

Bruce’s hand migrated to the back of Damian’s neck. “You did say you wanted to complete your high school at a public school. Maybe I should have considered that more seriously.”

Damian smirked, melting into his Father’s massage, “No, I wanted to go to school with Robin, in Alaska. I didn’t make friends at the Warrington School. This week wouldn’t have gone nearly as well as it has if I wasn’t taking classes with my best friend.”

Jon’s jaw dropped at the admission. Dick smirked at Bruce, knowing the man had maneuvered Damian into making the statement. Damian’s eyes were closed as Bruce slowed his massage, in a way known to put his son to sleep.

“Yeah,” Bruce asked softly, “How did he help?”

“Jon, you’re a good role model,” Damian said, close to sleep, “More people should act like you. The world would be a better place. Plus, I’ve never not had fun with you.”

Jon was stunned. _He really thinks that. He must. He was talking to me, not to his Dad. Damian really sees me as his best friend? Wow, that’s awesome._

Damian slumped back gently against Bruce, blissfully asleep.

Jon looked up at Dick in shock, “He…he…”

Dick smiled and threw an arm around the young boy, “He’s just being honest. You bring out the best in him. Being brothers is no joke to him. You can have the bedroom next to his, if you ever want to move in.”

Jon smirked at Dick, “The Haunted Guest Room? No, thank you.”

Dick hugged Jon closer to his side, “You’ve got half an hour before you two should go home, if you want to take a nap.”

Jon kicked off his shoes, curled his legs up under him, and snuggled into Dick’s side, closing his eyes with a warm smile.

_Fifteen Minutes Later…_

“Bruce!”

“SHHH!”

Tim stopped at the sight of the two youths, leaning against the older men in contented sleep. A soft smile grew on Tim’s face, even though he hated what he came in to the room to do.

“Bruce,” Tim whispered, kneeling down next to the couch, “The signal just came up, and Alfred said Gordon is holding on the Batphone.”

Bruce took a deep breath, letting it out through his nose. _Damn. That’s not fair. Damian is in a cuddly mood. Can’t I get more than fifteen minutes with my son when he actually wants to be held?_

“Damn,” Bruce breathed.

“Saturday.”

Bruce looked down at the source of the voice. Damian’s eyes were still closed, but he was the source of the softly spoken word.

“What’s that, pal?”

Damian took a deep breath, “Saturday. One o’clock. I’ll be here. Right here.”

Bruce gave a genuine smile, “So will I, Kiddo. It’s a date.”

“Please don’t call it that,” Damian said, opening one eye.

Bruce ruffled Damian’s hair, “Okay, it’s an appointment.”

“That’s better.”

“Dick?”

“Do I have to,” Dick half-whined, “I don’t want to wake him. He’s cute.”

“You’re engaged,” Damian said.

Dick rolled his eyes, “You’re being cute, too. Okay, Bruce. Let’s go.”

Jon gave a small yawn as Dick woke him up, “What’s up? Is it time to go?”

“For all of us,” Damian said, “They got a call. We might as well go back.”

“Tim, what are you going to do,” Bruce asked.

“I should go back, too,” Tim said, “Unless you need me.”

Bruce took the call from Gordon while the family watched. He hung up the phone and said, “You can go, Timothy. Dick and I can handle this.”

“What is it, Father,” Damian asked.

“A shipment of pharmaceutical-grade painkillers was stolen from the docks. Gordon made it sound like amateurs.”

Damian nodded, “Be careful. You know what junkies will do for their dope.”

Bruce nodded, then looked at the three youngest men in front of him, “One more day, boys. You’re doing so good on your mission.”

“Thanks, Mr. Wayne,” Jon said, turning towards the Zeta Tube.

“Thanks, Dad,” Damian said softly, but not softly enough that he wasn’t heard by the rest of the cave’s occupants.

_Metropolis…_

“You boys going to be okay on your own, or do you want me to stay until your parents get home?”

Jon and Damian glanced at each other. Damian knew they’d be fine, but he wanted to leave the decision up to Jon.

Jon looked back at Tim and said, “We’ll be okay. You don’t have to stay, Tim. Thanks for offering, though.”

Tim gave a smile, “Okay, you two. Be good. I’ll see you in class tomorrow.”

Jon and Damian walked Tim to the door, and Damian asked, “Are you and Todd coming here to go home tomorrow, or are you flying?”

Tim shook his head, “We’re driving. We have to take the rental car back. We’ll leave just after classes let out. I’m sure you’ll beat us home.”

“Probably,” Damian said with a shrug.

Tim left, and Damian caught the massive yawn that escaped Jon’s mouth. “Why don’t you go get ready for bed?”

“Don’t you want to go first,” Jon asked, trying to be the good host.

Damian smiled, “If I do, you’ll fall asleep before I’m done. Go ahead. I’ll go in when you’re done.”

Jon was too happy and too tired to argue. He just walked down the hall, pulling his school uniform off as he went. Damian went to Jon’s room and pulled his phone from his suitcase. He winced at the several missed calls and texts. He didn’t read them, he just called Robin.

“I’m sorry,” Damian said as the phone was answered.

“You said you’d call me after school,” Robin said.

“It’s after school,” Damian tried with a smile, “If I called you after I got out, you would have still been in class.”

“Where have you been?”

Damian blushed a bit, “Well, Jon’s parents are working late tonight. After school, we went home for dinner. I…I guess I was a little excited. I pushed Jon through our homework as quick as I could, and we left. I left my phone at Jon’s.”

Robin smiled at the explanation, “You missed your Dad, didn’t you. I bet you were feeling cuddly while you were there. Did you let him cuddle you?”

“Yes, I did,” Damian said, a smile crossing his face at the warm memory.

“In front of your friend,” Robin asked, trying to hide her surprise.

“Yes.”

“Did that make him uncomfortable,” Robin asked.

Damian shook his head, “Dick has been ‘Uncle Dick’ to Jon since before I met either of them. Jon cuddled with Dick. He looked pretty comfortable to me. We, um, both fell asleep. For a few minutes, at least.”

Robin felt a warm smile crossing her face, “You weren’t uncomfortable with that?”

“No, I was very comfortable,” Damian said.

_That’s not what I meant,_ Robin thought to herself, _I meant sharing Dick with someone. I’m pretty sure you know that. If Jon calls him Uncle Dick, and you call Jon your brother, maybe that makes it better. Or, maybe you had what you wanted in your Dad, and didn’t need Dick right then._

“We’re you able to get back to sleep this morning,” Damian asked.

“Yes,” Robin said, “Talking to you helped a lot.”

“I’m here for you,” Damian said, “I wish I could be there with you, though.”

“I wish you could be, too,” Robin said.

Damian yawned and said, “I really hate these early mornings. Six o’clock isn’t nice to anyone.”

“Why don’t you go to bed early tonight,” Robin asked.

“I am, just as soon as I get out of the shower,” Damian said.

“Skype me when you get home tomorrow.”

“How about I wait a little, and we can do a Skype date?”

Robin smiled eagerly, “We haven’t done one of those in a while. That sounds perfect. I can’t wait.”

“Neither can I,” Damian said.

“See you tomorrow, Lover,” Robin said seductively.

Damian had to swallow hard before he could say, “Love you, Beautiful.”

Damian hung up his phone and gave a contented sigh that was nearly as big as the yawn Jon gave as he walked into the bedroom. “Bathroom’s all yours, D.”

“Thanks, Jon,” Damian said, grabbing his pajamas and heading for the bathroom.

The teen showered, brushed his teeth, and hung up his towel. When Damian got back to Jon’s bedroom, Jon was already in bed.

The boy eyed Damian sleepily, “Sorry, D. I’m just really tired tonight.”

“It’s okay, Jon,” Damian said, turning off the light, “Sleep sounds pretty good right now.”

Damian got into bed and the room fell silent for several minutes, until Jon whispered, “Hey, Damian?”

“Yes, Jon?”

“Um, am I really your best friend?”

_Didn’t he hear me say that earlier?_ “Yes, Jon. You are,” Damian said matter-of-factly.

Jon gasped happily, “You’re my best friend, too.”

Damian snaked his left arm out from under his blanket and held his fist up between the bed and the air mattress. Several seconds later, a set of knuckles met his and held for a handful of seconds before both hands were lowered again.

“Well, I’m glad we got that settled,” Damian said, glad his back was facing Jon. His bright smile would have lit up the room if he were facing the other way. “If we’re going to be brothers, it would help if we were friends, too.”

Damian could hear the younger boy’s happiness in the way he was breathing.

“Good night, D.”

“Good night, J.”

_An Hour Later…_

Clark opened the apartment door slowly, not sure what he was expecting to find. Jon followed directions, and Damian was responsible, but they were two young boys, two friends left to their own devices.

“Think the boys are home yet,” Clark asked softly.

“They better be,” Lois said, “It’s after ten.”

Lois stood in the middle of the living room, looking down the hall. Clark could hear her fuse getting shorter. “Lois?”

“Jon’s bedroom door is open, and the light is off. Jon never leaves his door open at night.”

Lois stalked down the hall, followed closely by Clark. They stopped short when they saw two deeply slumbering boys in the bedroom.

Lois grew a soft smile as Clark wrapped his arms around his wife from behind.

“They’re out,” Clark said, “Wonder how long ago they got home.”

Lois closed the door gently and released a satisfied breath, “Doesn’t matter. They’re safe at home.”

**A/N: As I’ve shown in several of my other stories, not all problems are nefarious plots. That said, this one isn’t over yet. The boys still have one more day of school this week.**

**I like writing Damian’s softer side. There are millions of stories out there of Damian the murder machine. I like putting Damian the emotionally needy child out there. Sometimes, that can lead to greater understanding. I’m not sure if it is fan art or an actual comic panel, but there is a picture out there of Damian cuddling with Bruce, and it’s labeled ‘sometimes, you just need your dad’. That’s what I was thinking when I wrote the dinner scene.**

**I’d love to hear what you think of this one so far.**

**Thanks for playing along.**


	5. Friday

School Days

Chapter 5

_Friday…_

“Are you ready for this, D,” Jon asked as the school bus pulled up outside of Hackman Middle School.

Damian took a deep breath, “Sure. Remember, we don’t know anything until after third period.”

“Right,” Jon said as the students exited the bus into a pleasant, if breezy, March morning.

Damian stopped just outside of the school building and looked around.

“What’s up, Damian,” Jon asked, wondering if Damian was sensing some danger that he hadn’t picked up on.

Damian continued into the building and said softly, “You know, for a public school, this is a nice place.”

Jon rolled his eyes, “Not every place can be paid for by a billionaire. What were you expecting when you came here?”

Damian shrugged, “I don’t know. Something older. Something dirtier. Something closer to what you see in the movies.”

Jon smiled, “Except for that one bathroom, they keep the school pretty clean.”

Damian nodded, “That bathroom _is _nasty.”

The boys walked into their homeroom class, and Jon asked quietly, “We’re the people at your last school that much different than here?”

“You know how those entitled rich kids are,” Damian said with a wink.

“Not really,” Jon said, “I only know one, and I don’t think he acts entitled.”

Damian shrugged, “You didn’t really know me when I was at my last school.”

“Yeah, I did. You still were there when we met.”

Damian shook his head, “No, Jon. You didn’t _know _me. I changed between the time I started there and when I graduated. I wasn’t someone you would have wanted to know back then.”

“I don’t believe that,” Jon said.

Damian sighed, “Tomorrow, after I’m gone, ask your dad why we didn’t meet until it was absolutely necessary. Tell him I said it’s okay for you to know.”

Jon thought about the question for a minute, then smirked and asked softly, “Does that mean you’re spending the night tonight?”

“I haven’t decided yet,” Damian said as Mr. Kirby stood up to start the class, “Since it’s Friday, maybe you can spend the night instead.”

Jon smiled at the prospect as the boys turned to pay attention to class.

_After Class…_

With the test completed the day before, Mr. Kirby had decided to reward the class for their high scores. Fully half the class had earned perfect scores on the test, and the person with the lowest score in the class had only missed two questions. They spent the class watching Tom and Jerry cartoons, something Damian had never seen before. He found himself laughing more than he thought he would.

As the class packed up to leave, Mr. Kirby waved Damian down. Both Damian and Jon stopped.

“Jon, I wanted to ask Damian something privately,” Mr. Kirby said.

Damian spoke up before Jon could walk away, “I think I know what you want to ask, and I already talked to Jon about it yesterday. Dad still didn’t get his orders, but he’s scheduled to be in meetings all day today. He said he’d call the school as soon as he knows something.”

Mr. Kirby nodded slowly, “Okay. Good, I’m glad you spoke to your friend. Can you find a way to let me know, if you hear something?”

“I’ll try,” Damian said with a nod.

Damian sighed as the boys walked down the hall, “You know, if I’d had teachers like Mr. Kirby at my old school, I might have actually liked going.”

“Mr. Kirby is a good one,” Jon said, nodding.

The boys saw their math teacher entering the room ahead of them and slowed their pace down.

“Most of my teachers there were like Mrs. March, but my guidance counselor was nice. Too bad she turned to the dark side.”

“What do you mean,” Jon asked.

Damian shook his head gently as the boys entered the classroom, “She’s been dating Jason on and off. I thought she had better taste than that.”

Math class passed without incident, a first for Damian’s time in the school. He didn’t take Mrs. March up on her offer to skip today’s test, but he did have some issues with using the stylus on the Lexpad. It didn’t hurt his work, just made it a little more difficult to enter his work. Damian still aced the test.

As they walked out of the room, Damian noticed the teacher watching him. She had been notified of his perfect score by the computer scoring system. It was only one of three in the class.

“Took you a while to finish the test,” Jon said, “Did she give you a harder one than she gave us?”

Damian shook his head, “No, I had problems with the stylus. It wouldn’t read some of my inputs. Still finished the test before you did.”

Jon smirked, “Yeah, but did you get a perfect score?”

“Of course,” Damian said.

“Oh,” Jon said, deflating visibly.

Damian cocked his head at his friend, “Did you get a perfect score, Jon?”

“Yeah.”

Damian smiled as they entered the empty computer lab, “Good for you, Jon. Your Mother will be happy.”

“She might even be more willing to let me spend the night at your place tonight,” Jon said.

“How did you do on the English test yesterday,” Damian asked.

“Perfect score,” Jon said with a smile, “You?”

Damian nodded, “The same. Two perfect scores this week. How can you say this grade isn’t too easy for you?”

Jon shrugged, “I’ve always been pretty good at English. I’m pretty good at just about all my subjects.”

“I’ve noticed,” Damian said, “I’m wondering if we should add a study hall component to our trainings.”

“What do you mean,” Jon asked.

Damian looked down with a sheepish smile, “I forgot how much work goes into being a student. We can work on dealing with school, and the real world. There’s a lot we can cover there. I’m sure the Super Parents will agree to something like that.”

Jon snorted a laugh, “The Super Parents. I haven’t heard that before.” Jon looked around the room, “So, when is your Dad going to call?”

Damian took a deep breath, “I don’t know. Sometime during third period. Remember, you can’t look nervous or anxious until I tell you at lunch what’s happening.”

“Why lunch,” Jon asked.

“I need to sell it to the teachers,” Damian said, “Depending on when Father calls, I might not be in fourth period.”

“Okay,” Jon said as students filed into the room.

Tim stood at the front of the room and started class, “Happy Friday, everyone. We made it through this week. This has been a very educational experience for me, and I hope you all got something out of this, too. Mr. Park tells me that the only thing on your schedule for today is a timed typing test, so let’s get that out of the way.”

Tim passed out papers to the class and said, “Open up a Word document, please. You have five minutes to type out as much of this text as you can. Everyone ready? Go!”

The class dissolved into a flurry of keystrokes. Damian smirked up at Tim before starting in.

After four minutes, Damian stopped typing and raised his hand. Mr. Park walked over and asked softly, “Problem, Jones?”

“No. I’m done. Just wondering what to do now.”

Mr. Park did a double take at the boy, then looked between the page and screen. Mr. Park shrugged, “No one’s ever finished the page before. Just sit quietly until time’s up.”

“Time,” Tim called out as Mr. Park walked away from Damian.

Mr. Park turned back to look at the class and spoke up, “You all know the drill. Everyone stand up, hands away from keyboards, and stand against the wall.”

“What’s going on,” Damian asked Jon as Mr. Park walked around to all of the computers.

Jon leaned over and said softly, “He’s emailing our files to his computer to check accuracy and words per minute. He doesn’t want us doing it ourselves so we don’t cheat.”

“Is that why our keyboards are so loud,” Damian asked.

“I think so,” Jon said.

The students sat down again and Mr. Park said, “Alright, it’s Friday, and your test is done. You know the drill. Keep the noise down, and Wesley, no porn.”

The students giggled at the warning, but Damian was confused.

“What’s going on,” Damian asked.

“We can do what we want for the rest of the period, within reason,” Jon said. “We almost lost that privilege at the beginning of the year, when Wesley was caught watching porn. It’s been a running joke ever since.”

“What are you watching,” Damian asked as Jon pulled up Youtube.

“Naruto,” Jon said, “There’s just enough time left in class to watch an episode.

Damian watched the episode over Jon’s shoulder, until he shook his head, “That’s not what the character said.”

“What?”

“Those subtitles are wrong,” Damian said.

“What do you mean,” Jon asked.

Damian glanced at the youth, “Don’t you speak Japanese, Jon?”

“No,” Jon said, like the answer should have been obvious.

“Oh. Never mind, then.”

Jon watched Damian for a minute before turning back to the screen.

The room phone rang, and Mr. Park had a short conversation before hanging up. He walked over to Damian and said softly, “Jones, Mr. Connor wants to see you. Take your stuff, just in case.”

Damian totally forgot that this had been planned ahead of time. “Mr. Connor? What did I do?”

“He didn’t say,” Mr. Park said, “He just said to hurry.”

Concerned, Damian grabbed his bag and walked out of the computer lab.

The door to Mr. Connor’s office was open, and the Vice Principal waved the teen into his office. “Close the door, Damian. Mr. Jones, Damian is here.”

Damian closed the door as Bruce’s voice came through the speakerphone, “Damian?”

“Hi, Dad.”

Bruce sighed, “Pal, I’m sorry. I got my orders.”

Damian gasped, “Is it…where I guessed last night?”

_What the hell is he talking about? He must be thinking about putting on a show for the teachers._ “You know I can’t tell you that yet, Damian.”

“Yeah, but,” Damian’s voice hitched before he continued, “Can’t you tell me anything?”

“You guessed the right area, but the wrong country,” Bruce said, “I’ll tell you tonight.”

Damian gasped deeply, “Tonight? You mean…we’re leaving tonight?”

“I’m sorry, Pal. We have to be there as soon as possible. They were supposed to give me the orders yesterday. It took a lot to be able to talk them into holding our flight until you got out of school. Mr. Connor, thanks for helping Damian out this week. I wish there was a way we could stay longer, but there just isn’t.”

“We’ll be sad to see him go,” Mr. Connor said.

“Can you take us off speakerphone, please,” Bruce asked.

Mr. Connor picked up the handset, “Yes, Mr. Jones?”

“Actually, Mr. Connor, I wanted to talk to Damian privately.”

“Of course,” Mr. Connor said, handing the phone to Damian and walking across the office.

“Yeah, Dad?”

“Good acting, kiddo,” Bruce said, “It’s time for a little more though, to sell it.”

“Okay,” Damian said, letting a quake enter his voice.

“Good, now sniffle a little, and try to sound a little sadder.”

Damian wiped at his nose and sighed heavily, “Yeah, I get it. We don’t have a choice. I know, it’s your job…”

Damian trailed off, and Bruce asked, “Is Mr. Connor still in the room?”

“Yeah,” Damian said, sounding like he was close to tears.

“You don’t have to cry to sell this, Damian,” Bruce said.

“But you said we’d be here for a while,” Damian whined, “I made friends. I don’t want to leave yet.”

Bruce sighed, “You are really good at this, Kiddo. You’re going to make me cry here.”

It took a huge effort for Damian not to smile at the comment. “Okay, Dad,” Damian said, “I’ll see you after school. Will you pick me up, or should I take the bus?”

“Call me after you get back to the Kent’s,” Bruce said, “If you want to stay there tonight, I’m sure that will be fine.”

“Okay, I’ll take the bus,” Damian sighed, “Um, what time is our flight?”

“Whenever you want it to be,” Bruce said with a laugh.

“Okay. T-thanks for letting me know,” Damian said, defeat flooding out of his tone.

“Love you, Kiddo,” Bruce said.

Damian hung up the phone and slumped down in one of Mr. Connor’s chairs. Damian leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. The boy remained silent for several minutes.

Holding his face in his hands, Damian said softly, “He said we’d be here longer when we first got here.”

“You told me a couple days ago that you knew your time here was only temporary,” Mr. Connor said gently.

“Yeah, but I wouldn’t have tried to make friends if I knew I’d only be here a week,” Damian said harshly, “That makes it harder to leave.”

“You can stay in touch,” Mr. Connor said, “This is the age of social media. You don’t have to lose your friends just because you’re not here anymore.”

Damian released a huff, “Yeah, I guess that’s still possible. Still, it won’t be the same.”

“No, it won’t,” Mr. Connor said, “Listen, take all the time you need to get yourself together. I know this is bad news. Remember, I’ve been there, too. We moved four times during my schooling.”

Damian glanced up, “In how many years?”

“Well, twelve.”

Damian rolled his eyes, “Four moves in twelve years? I’m in the seventh grade. I should be in the eighth grade. This will be my thirteenth move.”

“Oh, wow,” Mr. Connor said softly, “I’m sorry, Damian. What is your next class?”

The bell rang as Damian said, “Earth Science, with Mrs. Hundley.”

“Damian, I don’t want you going to that class. I’ll clear it and let her know where you are and what’s going on. Why don’t you go lay down in the nurse’s office? You can go back to class when you’re ready.”

Damian nodded and stood up, “Thank you, Mr. Connor.”

The Vice Principal walked Damian to the nurse’s office and talked to the nurse quietly, but not quietly enough that Damian didn’t hear the conversation.

“Annie, this is Damian Jones. He just got some bad news from home, and today will be his last day at Hackman. I thought it would help if he could just rest for a bit. I’ll talk to his teacher. When he’s ready, write him a pass back to class.”

“Of course,” Annie said softly before turning to Damian, “This way, dear.”

Annie showed Damian to a cot and said, “You just let me know when you’re ready to go back to class.”

Annie watched Mr. Connor leave the office, then said softly to Damian, “Lunch starts at twelve-fifteen. You can stay until then, if you want.”

“Thank you,” Damian said feebly before laying down on the cot. He turned to face the wall, partly to look sad, but mostly to hide his grin.

_That went well. Father worked that perfectly. Now, the only thing I have to worry about is if Mr. Connor calls Father back, to tell him that I’m playing up my role this much. He’s not going to care if I miss class now. I just need to get through the last couple periods, then it’s mission accomplished._

Damian laid on the cot for a while, occasionally wiping at his nose to keep up appearances. Finally sighing, Damian thought to himself _I should go back to class before I fall asleep._

Damian took another minute, then slowly stood up and walked over to the nurse.

“Um, Annie, right?”

“Yes, dear,” the nurse said.

“I…I should go back to class, I guess. I’ll be alright now.”

“Are you sure, Dear?”

“I’m sure,” Damian said, “If this is going to be my last day here, I’d like to spend time with my friends.”

The nurse wrote out a hall pass and handed it to the teen, “Here you go. The period ends in about twenty minutes.”

“Thank you,” Damian said softly before walking out of the nurse’s office.

Damian tried to slip quietly into his Earth Science class, but it was not to be. Mrs. Hundley stopped her lecture as the teen walked into the room. It didn’t help that the classroom door was next to the board, and the entire class stared at Damian as he walked into the room and handed his note to the teacher.

Damian slumped down in his seat, trying to disappear.

Jon leaned over and whispered, “Mr. Connor came in and told Mrs. Hundley you wouldn’t be in class. Are you okay? You look terrible.”

“Acting,” Damian whispered back before gesturing at the board, for Jon to pay attention to class.

_Lunch…_

“What happened, D,” Jon asked as the boys stood in the lunch line.

“Exactly what was supposed to happen,” Damian said softly, “Father called the school and we put on our act for Mr. Connor. It went perfectly.”

“Oh,” Jon said, “I guess that’s good.”

The boys took their lunches, with Damian paying for both of them, to the tables. Damian sighed as he sat down, “Now, for the hard part.”

“What do you mean,” Jon asked. Damian didn’t answer as Josh and Suzy sat down at the table. Jon looked around and realized Damian was talking about telling his friends that he was leaving. Secretly, Jon was proud of his taciturn friend.

“Are you alright, Damian,” Suzy asked.

Damian put on his act again, looked down at the table, and shook his head, “No, I’m not. Dad called the school during third period. He…he got his orders.”

Josh and Suzy gasped. Jon did his best to look surprised at news he already knew.

“Are you leaving,” Suzy asked.

Damian nodded.

Josh asked, “Where are you going?”

“He couldn’t tell me,” Damian said, shaking his head, “Not until tonight.”

“When are you leaving,” Jon asked, in a lost sounding voice that made Damian very proud of his friend.

“Tonight,” Damian said in a shaky voice. Damian looked up, blinking, like he was trying to stop himself from crying, “I’m sorry. I hoped I’d stay longer this time.”

“What do you mean, this time,” Josh asked.

“This move. Dad promised me when we got to Metropolis that we’d be here longer than this. I wouldn’t have tried to make friends if I knew I’d only be in this school for a week.”

“I’m glad you did,” Josh said, “I’m glad you tried. I’m going to miss you.”

“Thanks,” Damian said, forcing himself to eat his lunch.

“How can you eat at a time like this,” Suzy asked.

Damian shrugged, “We’re leaving as soon as Dad gets home from work tonight. We might not be able to eat again until we’re on the plane, or even not until we get to wherever we’re going.”

“Really,” Jon asked.

“That’s how it’s worked the other times we’ve moved.”

The small group fell silent and worked on their lunches. Damian felt acutely guilty for how he was manipulating these kids. He was surprised that he had made friends so easily, and more surprised that he was thinking about buying a cheap, untraceable cell phone, to keep in touch with them after his assignment was over.

The bell rang, ending lunch and surprising the kids. Damian was staring at the ground as he threw his trash away. He looked up slightly when Suzy stood in front of him.

“I…I’m never going to s-see you again, am I,” Suzy asked.

Damian took a deep breath and spoke softly, “Probably not. I’ll…”

Damian was cut off in surprise as Suzy stood up on her toes and kissed Damian’s cheek. Damian didn’t have to try to fake an embarrassed blush. The one that appeared on his cheeks was completely natural.

The girl gave Damian a short hug and whispered, “I’ll miss you,” before hurrying away.

“Wow,” Josh said.

“Yeah,” Damian said breathlessly.

“You know, I’m going to miss you, too,” Josh said, “but I’m not going to kiss you.”

“Good,” Damian said.

The boys walked into their history class, and while sitting down, Damian said, so only Jon could hear, “How am I going to explain that to Robin?”

_P.E…._

As the three youths walked out of History class, Josh realized that this would be the last time he saw Damian. He tried not to look as sad as he suddenly felt as he shook Damian’s hand.

“I’m going to miss you, man.”

Damian gave a small nod, “If I’m ever able to come back, I will. Thanks, Josh. I don’t usually make friends this fast. Thanks for showing me I should try harder.”

Josh looked stunned at Damian’s speech, and Damian wondered if he went too far.

“Call us when you can,” Josh said before heading for his last class of the day.

Damian and Jon walked away, and Jon said, “You really meant that, didn’t you? That wasn’t Damian Jones talking.”

“No, it wasn’t,” Damian said softly, “This isn’t easy for me, Jon. I didn’t expect to make friends this week.”

The boys changed for P.E. and met with the rest of the class. Mr. Donell and Jason walked up as the bell rang.

Mr. Donell started talking as soon as he had the class’ attention. “Okay, settle down. You all know what today is. That’s all that’s on the schedule for today. That’s right, it’s the mile run.”

Several students groaned at the announced event. Mr. Donell shook his head, “None of that! We’ve been telling you all week that this is happening today. Erica, thank you for joining us today. You’ll have some extra work to do today, since you weren’t here yesterday. Unless you want yesterday’s zeroes to stand? You’ll end up failing this semester if they do. Your choice.”

Erica looked distinctly unhappy that she would still have to do the work she thought she had been smart enough to miss out on.

Mr. Donell called out, “Get stretched out and meet us at the track.”

Amelia and George stepped forward, fulfilling their last day as student leaders. Several minutes of stretching later, the class regrouped with their teachers at the track.

“Get ready, everyone. Last time we did the timed mile, George got the fastest time, with six minutes and forty-five seconds. Does anyone think they’re going to go faster than that?”

Damian shrugged and raised his hand.

“What is it, Jones?”

“You asked if anyone was going to go faster than that,” Damian said, “I will.”

“That was a rhetorical question, Jones,” Mr. Donell said, then smiled, “Well, George, you’ve been challenged. Want to make a one-on-one race out of it?”

George looked over at the shorter teen, looking Damian up and down. “Sounds like fun. I hope you know what you’re getting into, Jones. I’m on the Cross Country team here.”

_And I chase criminals around Gotham City. I guarantee most of them are faster than you, and I catch more than I let get away._ “I guess we’ll have to see.”

Mr. Donell smiled, “Okay. Everyone, clear the track. George, Damian, four laps. On your mark! Get set! GO!”

George jumped out to a quick lead out of the gate. Damian let him get ahead, studying the boy’s gait and pace for the first half lap.

With a smile, Damian caught up as they completed the first lap, and asked the boy, “I thought you said you were going to run fast?”

“You don’t need speed to run a mile,” George said, “You need endurance. I can keep this pace up for all four laps. Can you?”

“Mr. Donell said we were running a six minute mile pace when we passed him,” Damian said, “Can you do it in five?”

“Five minutes,” George asked.

Damian gave a smirk as he started running faster, “See you at the finish line.”

Damian pulled away easily, done playing around and finally taking the run seriously. George sped up as well, but he was unable to match Damian’s pace. Damian had pulled ahead to a one hundred foot lead by the end of the second lap.

The end of the third lap saw Damian’s lead increase to two hundred feet.

Surprising to the class, Damian started a dead sprint as he began the final lap.

Damian finished his mile in four minutes, fifty-eight seconds, almost a minute faster than George, who finished in five minutes, forty-five seconds.

Damian, panting and sweating profusely, waited at the finish line for his competitor. George nearly collapsed as he crossed the line.

Damian held out his hand, and George took it weakly, using it more to hold himself up than to accept Damian’s gesture.

“Thanks, that was fun,” Damian said.

George shook his head, wondering how Damian had run so fast, while still looking like he could run again. “That’s the fastest I’ve ever run. How did you do that?”

Damian smirked as he invented something to cover his training, “At my last school, a timed mile run was the daily warm-up. If you couldn’t do it in six minutes or less, they made you do it again, until you could. Some students spent the entire hour running.”

“Well,” Mr. Donell said, “I hope that inspired all of you. Who is going to be our next fast ones? George, Damian, clear the track. Go get some water. Everyone else, line up. On your mark. Get set. GO!” The class started running as the two boys wandered off towards the water fountains.

Damian returned to the track, making sure to cross when he wouldn’t get in anyone’s way. “Mr. Donell, can I talk to you?”

Mr. Donell handed the stopwatch to Jason and said, “Mr. Todd, keep an eye on them. What is it, Jones?”

“I’ll be quick, Mr. Donell,” Damian said, “Today is my last day at this school. My Dad got a transfer at his job. We’re actually leaving town tonight.”

“Why did you even bother to dress out today, Jones,” Mr. Donell asked, to cover his shock.

Damian gave a small smile, “Well, I wanted to run. It helps me clear my head. Anyway, is there anything else to do for class today?”

Mr. Donell shook his head, “No. I was going to have Mr. Todd take Erica through the physical fitness tests, but the rest of the class is going to have free time.”

Damian nodded, “In that case, can I be dismissed early? I need to speak with Mr. Kirby, my Homeroom teacher.”

“Of course, Jones,” Mr. Donell said, “You can go now, if it’s important.”

“Thank you, Mr. Donell.”

Mr. Donell looked at Damian and asked, “So, I don’t get you for my track team, after all?”

“No, sir,” Damian said with a small smile as he headed for the locker room.

Damian changed back into his school uniform and wondered what to do with his sweaty gym clothes. _I don’t need them anymore. I’m not going to take them home for Alfred to wash. I don’t have a reason to wear them again, and frankly, I don’t think I want to see them again. The uniforms are a waste as it is. I hope Jon doesn’t think it’s weird that Father got me clothes in Jon’s size, so we could at least give them to Jon when I leave._

Damian sighed as he headed for the exit. The gym clothes were dropped in the trash can next to the door on his way out.

Damian walked down the hall, wondering if he should have asked for a hall pass. He was also wondering why he felt a need to say goodbye to Mr. Kirby. His original reason was that Damian was keeping a promise, but now he wasn’t so sure. Damian had promised to keep Mr. Kirby informed of updates, but Mr. Connor must have taken care of that by now.

_He’s a nice guy. That’s new for me. I’m not used to having teachers who care. I think I’m jealous of Jon. He gets a school full of instructors who are good at their jobs, and make the school day a good experience for the kids._

Hearing the same cartoons that he had watched this morning, Damian opened the classroom door slowly and stuck his head into the room. Mr. Kirby noticed the teen, along with the first row of students, and walked into the hall.

“What’s up, Damian? Shouldn’t you be in class?”

Damian suddenly felt nervous, and he didn’t understand why. “Um, no. Not really. I…I came to say goodbye.”

Mr. Kirby’s jaw dropped a bit, “What do you mean?”

Damian took a deep breath through his nose, “My Dad called today during third period. He got his orders, which he was actually supposed to get yesterday. We’re leaving tonight.”

Mr. Kirby seemed to deflate a bit, “Oh, Damian. I’m so sorry.”

Damian shrugged, “I knew it was coming. There’s nothing we can do about it.”

“Are you okay,” the teacher asked.

“I won’t lie,” Damian said, “This is hard. Harder than I thought it’d be.”

“Listen,” Mr. Kirby said, “You’re a good kid. You’ll be fine. It won’t be comfortable at first, but you’ll make it. I have a good feeling.”

Damian looked down again, “Thank you.”

Damian reached into his backpack after a second of uncomfortable silence, and pulled out his Lexpad. Handing it to the teacher, Damian said, “Here. I don’t know who else to give this to. I already wiped my information from it.”

Mr. Kirby nodded, “Thank you. We’ll put this back into the school’s extras. Listen, you’re still a student here for the next twenty-two minutes, and we can’t have you wandering around the halls. Why don’t you come into the class and watch some Tom and Jerry? You looked like you were enjoying it this morning, and you look like you need something to cheer you up right now. There’s an empty desk in the front row, right next to my desk.”

Damian finally looked up, and for once today, felt okay about what was happening. “Thank you, Mr. Kirby. I think that will help.

Mr. Kirby opened the door for Damian and patted the teen on the shoulder as he passed by.

_After School…_

Damian walked out of the school building and found Jon, waiting for the bus and looking lost. Damian stood behind his friend, waiting for the bus to pull up. Jon didn’t look around, and didn’t realize Damian was standing behind him.

They boarded the bus, and Jon slumped into the first seat and stared out of the window. Damian sat next to him, still waiting for the younger boy to look at him.

“I’m saving that seat for someone,” Jon said in a nervous voice.

“I know,” Damian said, “Why do you think I’m sitting here?”

Jon nearly jumped out of his seat as he recognized Damian’s accent. “Damian! Where did you go? You just disappeared in the middle of class.”

Damian liked that Jon taking notice of his presence was accompanied with a smile. “I needed to let Mr. Kirby know that I’m not coming back. He’s a nice guy; he deserved to hear it from me. I also gave him the Lexpad back.”

“Is that safe,” Jon asked quietly as the bus pulled away from the school, “I mean, we did stuff to your Lexpad that isn’t done to other pads.”

“I wiped it during fifth period,” Damian said, “There should be no trace of anything we did to the Lexpad remaining. This is now considered a clean break.”

“That’s good, I guess,” Jon said.

The pair fell silent for a minute. Jon was looking out of the window, and Damian was watching Jon.

Damian nudged his friend, “Hey, how much homework do you have?”

“Just History and Science,” Jon replied, “It shouldn’t take too long. Why?”

“Why don’t you get started on it now?”

Jon shrugged, “It will really only take, like, fifteen minutes. I have all weekend.”

“You really don’t, Jon.”

“Why not?”

“What did we talk about this morning,” Damian asked with a small smile.

Jon thought for a minute, then gave a small gasp, “Oh, right. I still have to ask Mom, though.”

Damian shook his head, “Let me handle that. I know how to do it so she can’t say no.”

A smirk crossed Jon’s face as he reached for his backpack, pulled out his Lexpad, and started reading.

Several minutes later, the boys exited the bus at their stop and started their walk to the apartment building. Damian was walking faster than Jon, which made the younger boy smile.

“Aren’t you tired, after what you did in P.E.?”

Damian shook his head, “That was nothing. You know that. Say, how fast did you run?”

“Five minutes and thirty seconds,” Jon said, “I didn’t want to show off too much, but it felt good to beat George’s time.”

“Good.”

Entering the apartment, Damian took off his blue school blazer for the last time. His disguise glasses went into the front pocket, and Damian seemed to release a nervous breath.

Speaking in the voice Jon had heard Damian use for their entire acquaintance, apart from this week, Damian said, “Let’s get changed, and you need to finish your homework.”

Jon sighed at hearing Damian’s normal voice, “So, Damian Jones really is gone?”

Damian eyed his friend, “Which one of us did you like better?”

“They’re both you, aren’t they,” Jon asked.

Damian nodded, “Right. It was a role. Not unlike Damian and Robin, or Jon and Superboy.”

Jon looked down and said, “Would you take it the wrong way if I said I liked the you that’s been with me all week?”

“No, I wouldn’t,” Damian said, “Because this has been the best week I’ve ever spent at a school, and a huge part of that comes down to the fact that I got to spend it with my brother. Thanks, Jonathan.”

Jon gave a brilliant smile and said, “Thank you. You’re right, this has been a great week.”

Damian nodded, “Get your homework done, then pack a bag. Pajamas, clothes for tomorrow, your toothbrush and comb, and your uniform.”

“Why am I bringing my uniform,” Jon asked.

“We have team training tomorrow night,” Damian said, “What’s the use of spending the night tonight if you just have to come back here to change before going to our meeting?”

Jon’s eyes widened a bit, “Are we talking to the League tomorrow night?”

Damian shook his head, “No, that’s not until next week. I’ll talk to you about that more later. For now, we get to enjoy the completion of our mission.”

“What about asking Mom,” Jon asked.

“I told you, I’ll take care of that,” Damian said.

The boys walked to Jon’s room and changed out of their school uniforms. Jon looked at Damian strangely as the teen hung his uniforms up in Jon’s closet.

“Hey, are you just leaving your uniforms here?”

“Your uniforms,” Damian said, “I have no further need for them. You might as well get some use out of them.”

Jon looked down, “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re a bit smaller than me.”

“Yes, but the uniforms should be just right. Father asked your Mother for your sizes before we bought uniforms, so they wouldn’t go to waste after using them for a week. We bought them larger so I could hand them down to you.”

Jon smiled, “I thought they looked too big for you. That makes sense now.”

“Get to work,” Damian said as he deflated the air mattress and put it back in the box in Jon’s closet.

Damian packed his suitcase, then pulled out his cell phone and texted Robin. ‘Can we postpone our Skype date until Sunday? I found out that I have some assignment related stuff to take care of tonight and tomorrow.’

Robin texted back, ‘I suppose so. Are you out of school already?’

‘Yes, I’m done with school,’ Damian texted, ‘Are you in second or third period?’

‘Third is just about to start,’ Robin messaged, ‘Can you call me later tonight?’

‘You bet,’ Damian replied.

Damian put his phone back in his pocket and started writing on a piece of paper he had taken from Jon’s room.

Jon walked into the living room carrying a duffel bag, “Homework is done, and I’m all packed. I still don’t see what you’re planning to clear it with Mom for me to spend the night without me calling her.”

Damian handed over the piece of paper and asked with a smile, “Does that make it a little clearer?”

Jon read over the paper, and a smile grew on his face as he read it out loud, “I have kidnapped your son. Don’t worry, I made sure he finished his homework first, and he got perfect scores on both his Math and English tests this week. If you would like your son back, then both of you will present yourselves at Wayne Manor before seven PM. If you do not want your son back, then both of you will present yourselves at Wayne Manor before seven PM. Alfred will not tolerate diners who are late for dinner. Thank you for your hospitality this week, and I hope I have not caused you too much trouble this week. Signed Damian Wayne.”

Damian held up a finger as the call he was making was answered. “Hello, young Master Damian.”

Damian smiled involuntarily at the butler’s voice, “Hello, Alfred. What does the dinner situation look like tonight?”

“I was unaware that there was a situation,” Alfred said.

Damian rolled his eyes, “Would it be an imposition to add three more seats to the table tonight?”

“Would that be three including yourself, young sir?”

“Okay. Four, then.”

“There will be no imposition at all, Master Damian,” Alfred said, “When shall I be expecting you?”

“Jon and I will be over in a few minutes,” Damian said, “Mr. and Mrs. Kent will probably be around closer to dinner.”

“Very well, young sir. I shall see you when you arrive.”

“Thanks, Alfred.”

Damian hung up his phone, and Jon said, “You didn’t ask if I could spend the night.”

Damian shook his head, “No, I didn’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re always welcome,” Damian said. Jon’s smile grew as Damian asked, “Where can we put the ransom note that your parents will be guaranteed to find it?”

“I know just the place,” Jon said. The super youth dropped his bag and walked back to his room. Damian followed and watched as Jon closed his bedroom door and taped the note to the surface. “There. That will be the first place Mom will check when she gets home.”

Damian nodded, “Good. Are you ready to go?”

Jon picked up his bag again and casually threw an arm around Damian’s shoulders, “All set, Big Brother.”

Damian grabbed his suitcase and said, “Let’s go, Little Brother.”

Damian entered the cave’s coordinates into the Zeta Tube, and Jon asked, “Hey, why are you the big brother?”

“That’s just how it works out, Jon.”

“But I’m taller.”

Damian laughed as they stepped through the Zeta Tube, “I’m older.”

**A/N: That will just about bring this one to a close. I really liked this story. We need all the Super Sons we can get these days. I hope you all enjoyed this one.**

**I have mentioned numerous times in this story, and a couple times in other stories, of Damian having an accent that he dropped over the years of living in Gotham. Whenever I think of what this accent must have sounded like, I always come back to something like a younger version of Oded Fehr in The Mummy. Smooth, cultured, educated, noticeable, but not something that interferes with understanding the voice. That’s just my opinion, though. You want Damian to sound different, write your own story.**

**Thanks for sticking with me, and I hope you are still enjoying my works. Please, let me know what you think.**

**Thanks for playing along.**


	6. Epilogue

School Days

Epilogue

_The following takes place three months after chapter 5._

“What do you have for us, Luthor?”

Lex Luthor didn’t like that he’d been summoned to this nondescript, abandoned office building on the edge of town. He didn’t like that he’d been dragged out of bed at three in the morning for an unannounced meeting. He didn’t like that he was sitting in a dark room, staring at a projection of a man, who was sitting in shadow. It could have been a mannequin for all Lex knew, and the video could have been coming from anywhere in the world.

What Lex hated most of all, though, is that he had no choice in the situation.

Last summer, Lex had received a cryptic message. Lexcorp will make more money than it ever has, but he had to uncover one crucial piece of information first. At first, Lex had ignored the message. He just assumed it was some crackpot with a half-assed get-rich-quick scheme. He got a dozen of those a week.

However, this message also came with a very specific warning about what would happen if Luthor didn’t go along with the plan.

He ignored it when the tires on his car were slashed.

He ignored it when his chief of security was arrested for illegal gambling.

He ignored it when his home, his vacation home in the Poconos, and the apartment of his mistress were vandalized.

Luthor didn’t pay attention until the FBI raided Lexcorp, backed by a slew of warrants from the IRS.

All of these actions had been spelled out in the letter from his mysterious correspondent.

After the first day of the increased government scrutiny, Lex reached out to the mystery person. He was told, in no uncertain terms, that he was now the property of this mystery group. All he had to do, to get his life back, was follow everything he was ordered to do. In order to see his company grow beyond his wildest dreams, all Lex had to do was find out the civilian identities of the Justice League.

“I don’t think you’re going to like it,” Luthor said as he pulled a thumb drive out of his pocket and inserted it into a computer reader.

“This is all you have for us? Four files? How many millions of school children are there in the United States?”

“You have to understand what I’m working with here, and what I’m working against,” Lex said, “We do have information on millions of school children to sift through, but there are millions more we can’t reach. I can’t force Lexpads into the schools. It has to be voluntary acceptance; you said so yourself. We were only able to reach the public schools. Not one single private school in any of the targeted cities adopted the program. Also, homeschooling organizations are waiting to see how the Lexpads work in the public schools before they roll them out. There are a lot of kids we can’t reach right now.”

“We don’t want excuses, Luthor. We demand results.”

Lex shook his head, “You told me yourself that the program is only to be on a voluntary basis. People are hypervigilant about cyber security and personal privacy these days. An item like the Lexpad is a hard sell.”

“Then you’re not selling it right,” the voice said, “You need to be selling the Lexpad the way we forced Google and Amazon to sell their listening devices. Look what we were able to do for them. Amazon is now the largest retailer on the planet, and Google is synonymous with internet activity. No one ‘searches the internet’, they ‘google’ something. Your relatively insignificant company can become a household name and a global competitor, if you get us what we need.”

“I understand that, but I can’t give you what I don’t have,” Luthor said in an exasperated tone, “I can’t give you the Justice League, because I don’t have them.”

The voice didn’t reply for a long minute, making Lex wonder if they didn’t lose the connection. Finally, the voice said, “You don’t have them yet. Go over the files you brought us. Why did you flag them?”

Lex nodded, accessing the files, “The first two are from Central City. They are twins, named Iris and Jay West.”

“Tell us about the family.”

Luthor browsed the file, “Unremarkable, really. The kids are thirteen, now going into high school. Father is a chemist with Starr Labs. Mother is an English professor at a local community college. The kids are average students, at best.”

“Why have you flagged them, if they are so unremarkable,” the voice asked.

“Their GPS data,” Lex said, “These two kids tend to get home from school very fast.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” the voice said, “Central City has a very complex and advanced public transportation system.”

“Yes, they do,” Lex agreed, “but not even that system can cover three miles in as many minutes. It’s suspiciously fast. Fast enough to possibly indicate The Flash and family.”

“Interesting. Very interesting,” the voice said appreciatively, “The Flash has been seen with two young sidekicks. We will have to look into this West family. You have done well so far, Luthor. Explain the other two files.”

Lex took a deep breath, “They are both from Metropolis. The first one is someone I know. Well, the son of someone I know. Jonathan Kent. He is twelve years old, going into the eighth grade. Parents are Clark Kent and Lois Lane, authors and newspaper reporters. I’ve had suspicions about Clark Kent for years, but I haven’t been able to confirm anything. Now, Jonathan has triggered several of the keywords we set up to listen for Justice League activity. Most often said were ‘League’ and ‘Team’. Superboy is a known member of the Justice League Youth Training Group. I can say, with a high probability of reliability, that Jonathan Kent is most likely Superboy, making Clark Kent Superman.”

“Again, something we will look into,” the voice said, “Explain the final file.”

Lex took a breath, “This one is a bit of a long shot, and we don’t have a lot of information about this one. The student’s name is Damian Jones. He is also in Metropolis. Or, he was.”

“What does that mean?”

“The account for Damian Jones was only active for one week in March, and it went everywhere with Jonathan Kent’s account. We contacted the school for information about why the GPS info seemed to be exactly in the same locations for both accounts. We didn’t phrase it that way to the school, of course. We were told that Jones’ father is a government employee who was transferred soon after Jones was enrolled. It’s probably, and not something I have the resources to check. No mother was listed on the file. Jones himself was reported to be thirteen, so he is in the right predicted age range. He was an exceptional student. In the one week he showed up in the system, Jones was the highest ranked seventh-grade student in the entire state. If he did actually transfer to another school, it isn’t one that is using Lexpads.”

“Why did this student stand out to you?”

“Besides the fact that his account shadowed Kent’s for a week, and I mean close enough that it could possibly be a glitch. If the school hadn’t told us that Jones actually was in the school, I would think Kent had a second Lexpad for a week. They were in _that_ close proximity. Something strange happened during that week, which is why I brought these four specific files to you. On Jones’ first day of school, his, Kent’s, and the West twin’s Lexpads went dark.”

“What do you mean, went dark,” the voice asked, with what Lex could only interpret as concern in the voice. It was the first emotion Lex had heard from his blackmailers, other than disdain.

Lex looked uncomfortable at the question, “I don’t have a better way to put it. The passive tracking and recording stopped sending data.”

“Did your workers call in work requests, to analyze the problem?”

“And tell the families what,” Luthor shot back, “our illegal software that’s been monitoring your kids isn’t sending us personal, private information anymore?”

“If a feature isn’t working, you can make something up.”

“That’s just it,” Lex said, “It _is _working. We are receiving data dumps; they just aren’t giving us anything. It’s like…once they stop using the Lexpads, the pads are put in a place where the microphones can’t pick up any ambient noise. It could be normal. Fully seventy-five percent of the data we receive from all Lexpads is silence. Students don’t tend to stay around their school work when they aren’t studying.”

“Then why bring it up?”

“The timing is suspicious. Within hours of each other, any extra useful data stopped for these four students. If they are actually affiliated with the Justice League, it could mean that the League is suspicious of us, and has launched their own counter-investigation.”

Again, the line fell silent for a minute.

“You might be on to something, Luthor. Do you only find this pattern with these four students?”

“That’s all that’s been reported so far. However, with the millions of profiles, and the multi-millions of hours of data collected so far, we haven’t analyzed all of the profiles yet. We’re still working on it.” Luthor took a breath, “Have I fulfilled your blackmail demands yet?”

“For today,” the voice said, “We will be in contact once we have had a chance to analyze your data. We will also provide several software revisions and updates for you to push to the Lexpads.”

Lex cringed, “That might not be a good idea.”

“Telling us what to do isn’t a good idea, either,” the voice said ominously.

“Lexcorp was hit with a cease and desist order today involving the Lexpads,” Lex said, “We’ve been ordered to put a hold on the program until the Lexpads can be investigated by the FCC. They are looking for the passive monitoring systems that are listening to the kids, that Lexcorp swore were not included in the systems.”

The voice sighed, “We will deactivate the feature until the investigation is done.”

“You better,” Luthor said, “If I go down for this, you can bet that I will tell the government everything I know.”

“You know nothing, Luthor,” the voice said, “And what did we tell you about threatening us? We could just as easily kill you and make it look like you couldn’t stand the pressure of possible criminal proceedings. We would also make sure all evidence points to you. It would be the end of Lexcorp.”

“You’ve got me by the short hairs, don’t you,” Lex grumbled.

“That’s right. You’re ours until we’re done with you, or until you are of no further use to us.”

“I potentially just gave you two members of the Justice League. How much more useful can I be?”

“We want them all,” the voice demanded. “You brought us information from two of the five regions. That is not good enough.”

Lex released a breath, “That’s all I have. Lots of kids talk about superheroes. Lots of kids want to be superheroes. Of the millions of hours of recordings we’ve gathered, not one kid had said they are a hero, or a hero-in-training. Passive means won’t find this information.”

The voice fell into a thoughtful silence, “You might be right, Luthor. We will look into that. Continue as we’ve discussed. We will disable the tracking feature for now. You will let us know the second the investigation is completed. You will be contacted for our next update. We would hope you have better information for us then.”

The video call ended abruptly, leaving Lex Luthor sitting alone in an abandoned office building, wishing he had just gone along with the FBI and the IRS.

**A/N: Well, who saw that coming? I sure didn’t. This epilogue was not something I originally planned for this story. However, once the thought entered my mind, it had to go here.**

**Who is this shadowy person or organization hunting for the Justice League? At this point, your guess is as good as mine. I actually do not have one single idea for how I’m going to bring this up in future stories, but I’m sure my lovely, creative readers will make some incredible suggestions in the comments. There is plenty of time to get your ideas in. I’m not planning on coming back to this for quite a while. My current timeline is pretty set, so any continuation of this won’t be put into any of my currently planned works. However, now that I think about it, whatever this turns into will have to be pretty big, so maybe it won’t be one shadowy person or organization. It might have to be several.**

**Anyway, thanks for sticking around for the end of this one. Please let me know your thoughts.**

**Thanks for playing along.**


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